


In the Face of All Aridity

by quamquam20



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Coruscant (Star Wars), Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff and Smut, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Ghost(s), Grief/Mourning, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Permanent Force Ghost Ben Solo, Post-Canon, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Robe Kink, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Fix-It, Tatooine (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23594545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quamquam20/pseuds/quamquam20
Summary: Immediately after the events of TRoS, Rey decides to remain on Tatooine for one month. Attempting to bury her grief, she throws herself into restoring the abandoned moisture farm and discovers that she's not alone.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 130
Kudos: 226
Collections: TROS Reylo Fix-it Fics, The Rise of Skywalker: Fix-It Fic Edition





	1. Adrift

“Neither be cynical about love, for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment

it is as perennial as the grass.”

-Max Ehrmann

* * *

It wasn't so bad, she realized.

After the ground swallowed up the carefully wrapped lightsabers, Rey had watched the setting suns for a while. She turned to head back to the Falcon and the people aboard she cared about. Tatooine was... Tatooine. But the thought of zipping off to another planet to celebrate with her friends made something tug hard at the bottom of her stomach.  
  
Rey glanced back at the low, buried profile of the dusk-lit homestead and made up her mind. She wasn't finished here. There were things to be done and suddenly nothing sounded more appealing than throwing herself into simple, practical work that would leave different callouses on her hands and make her collapse into bed at the end of the day. As lush and beautiful as Kashyyyk had been when they'd dropped Chewbacca off to be with his family, this place felt comfortable to Rey. It was familiar, undoubtedly. But the light was softer than on Jakku, the heat a little less intense. And it wasn't the same kind of solitude.  
  
Poe looked at her in disbelief, but Finn nodded.  
  
“How long?” Finn asked.  
  
Rey thought about it.  
  
“A month.”  
  
“You gotta be kidding,” Poe grumbled under his breath, hands on his hips as he looked around. “Rey, there's _nothing_ here! This is ridiculous. You could go anywhere. The whole galaxy.” He stopped. Pinched the bridge of his nose. “At least take a droid.” He gestured to BB-8, who chirped in agreement.

“There's no power.” BB-8's head drooped. Rey knelt to speak to him, reassuring. “Besides, I'll be fine.”  
  
Finn activated a familiar pair of homing beacons and handed one to her. Rey smiled at him as she stood and took it.

“This will hold a charge,” he promised. “Take a transmitter, too. And you've got a holoprojector?”

“Yes.”  
  
She paused, sensing that he needed to tell her something at the same time as she knew the answer to his question.  
  
“The Jedi texts are in the insulted black cargo crate,” she told Finn. “If you get bored,” she added, offhand.  
  
Poe waved dismissively at her.  
  
“Bored?” Poe said. “I'm taking this guy to every cantina and casino worth going to.”  
  
He clapped a hand firmly on Finn's shoulder and gave him a little shake.  
  
“I could definitely use a drink,” Finn admitted, making them laugh before Poe became serious.  
  
“Of course, we'll also be facilitating and mediating during the meetings. Diplomatic... government talks. Whatever.”  
  
“Of course,” Finn agreed.  
  
As Poe starting naming planets and places on his list, Finn mouthed a silent “thank you” to Rey.

* * *

  
  
She took supplies—enough water to tide her over until a moisture vaporator was up and running. Plenty of food. Two blankets. A bowl and a cup. Credits. She found a large bucket full of dirty rags in the cargo hold. Unceremoniously, she dumped the cloth onto the floor and assessed the empty container. For hauling sand, it would do. She filled it with a few tools that either wouldn’t be missed or had duplicates on board.  
  
Fierce hugs with her friends as they promised her they'd take care of the ship, reassuring pats for the droids, and soon Rey was watching the Falcon's lights dissolve into the dark. The silence stayed.  
  
Rey took a steadying breath. One step at a time. She had to find a safe place to sleep.  
  
Returning to the main pit of the homestead, Rey noticed that some of the accessible rooms looked like people or animals had used them in the past. As a precaution, she avoided sleeping in those spots and instead found a sheltered alcove. After checking it with her lightsaber's yellow glow and a few well-placed prods of her quarterstaff, she settled in. The sand was warm with the lingering day’s heat and it cradled Rey as she drifted off underneath her blankets. No dreams came, and she was thankful.

Rey blinked into the morning light and stretched her cramped legs one at a time as the confusion of waking up in a new place melted away. No distant conversations, no slight sway of a hammock, no training to be late for. Just the ground and the breeze and her. She rose, swinging her arms and rolling her neck to loosen up as she gave her surroundings a more critical look.  
  
Water and shelter would be most important, she decided. In the center of the courtyard, she could see the tops of the two moisture vaporators. Rey very much doubted that the whole system was still functional, but she could easily divert a pipe into her water jug for the time being.  
  
Some of the doorways that radiated out from the living pit were closed or covered by sand. At least, she assumed there were doors hidden under the pile.  
  
One wide entrance to her immediate left was promising and soon she was standing in the blissfully cool, cave-like room that she had peered into the day before. The walls were plain and her gaze followed the curve of them until they met the ceiling, which was painted with striking but faded designs.  
  
The room had been ransacked. A narrow, overturned table lay on the floor. She knew that in the dry desert air, fabrics were often preserved and Rey saw several cushions strewn around. But overall, the looting had been much lighter than she'd expected. Being in the space felt like a bit of an intrusion, but she supposed it was only because she knew Luke had lived there until he was nearly her age.

There were interesting grooves along the top of the entrance arch and she traced them with a finger.  
  
“Hello,” she said to nobody. She had the same odd urge to introduce herself she'd sometimes felt while scavenging on Jakku. It was an embarrassing, private thing that helped her to assuage her intermittent guilt about what she was doing. Although since learning about the Force, the habit had made a bit more sense to her. Things tended to linger.  
  
“I'm Rey and I‘m staying here for a while.” She said it like an announcement. “If that's all right,” she added.  
  
Nothing. She hadn’t expected a response. Not really.  
  
Besides, she had to stay busy.  
  
Rey started by righting the table and brushing it off with her hand. She straightened the remaining chairs and gave the faded floor cushions a few thorough whacks against the wall of the courtyard, sending dust flying. The pillows had a pleasant, sweet scent, and the filling crackled when she squeezed it. The smell itself was unfamiliar to her, but it wasn’t uncommon to use dried herbs and spices to repel pests in living spaces. It seemed to be working so Rey tossed the cushions into a clean corner of the room, letting them pile up in a comfortable-looking nest. She retrieved her pack and equipment from the courtyard alcove where she'd slept.  
  
When Rey was done, she surveyed the room. It looked functional and tidy, but it was genuinely beautiful, too, she realized. The day filtered in serenely, urging a kind of slowness, beckoning her to stay awhile.

It felt like somebody’s home.  
  
On the opposite end of the space, a few stairs led down to a sunken, open passageway. Rey followed it and found herself in a narrow galley kitchen. The only light came from behind her, but she could make out the rounded edges of the countertops and dozens of shelves stacked with containers. She picked one canister, half-empty, and unclamped the lid. It hissed as the seal broke, and Rey's head snapped back when the stench hit her. The unmistakable scent of grain that had gone rancid with heat and time filled the small kitchen. She hurried to close it again and replaced it on the ledge.

There was something unsettling about an unlooted, unscavenged kitchen in a long-abandoned homestead.  
  
Suddenly she wanted sunlight.

* * *

In the courtyard, patches of exposed metal on the vaporators glinted. Rey considered them as she spread her tools out on the table. The intricate spires were partially buried and some of the electrical components had been damaged but she could make a few modifications and reroute the system to start passively collecting before she uncovered the entire thing. They wouldn't produce nearly as much water as they would once they were functioning at full capacity, but she would have a steady supply if she was careful.  
  
She stilled in the silent room and closed her eyes to sense if anything was alive near her or the structure. The last thing she needed was a raid while she was occupied and exposed.  
  
Nothing but small, uninterested things moving across the desert above her. She reveled in the peaceful familiarity of it. Although Tatooine had a bit more life—she'd even seen some plants growing around the edge of the courtyard—it all had a rhythm that she knew well.  
  
More unusual was the nebulous sense of presence she felt in the house itself. It wasn't frightening or dangerous but there was a calm melancholy that overlaid many, many years of lived-in happiness. Something about it caught in her throat, and she found herself blinking back tears without really knowing why. A bad thing had happened, that much was obvious to her. But it didn't overwhelm the love and joy that had once filled the home.  
  
It wasn't time to linger on that thought, she told herself. That was for long nights. Rey wiped her face with the back of her hand.  
  
There was work to do.

* * *

  
  
A few hours later, she got the first drip of water from the vaporators. The wetness left a darker spot on the sand she crouched and tapped it with her index finger, thinking. Rey fit the mouth of her canteen around the nozzle, knowing that every drop mattered. She banked up sand around the bottle to keep it upright and protected from the sun. She heard a tiny, satisfying splash. Soon she would need larger bottles.  
  
But now, it was time to explore.  
  
Rey started by walking the property. After tucking a blaster into the back of her belt and grabbing the large, handled container she'd taken from the Falcon, she clambered out of the courtyard. The first thing that drew her attention was the pale, domed structure that was one of the few things visible from the surface. Rey approached the front, noticing dark scorch marks around the unpowered security access keypad and a blank screen. It wasn't uncommon for more isolated homes to have short-range comlinks, space to leave a note, and information about the nearest settlements accessible from a message center at the entrance. This one was crusted with grit after decades of disuse, the plastic frame yellowed and cracked by the sun. She wiped off the buttons, wondering who had touched them last. How they had felt. If they ever could have known that she'd be the next.  
  
Refocusing with a shake of her head, Rey returned to the present. She realized that the dome was providing storage space as well as securing and sheltering the staircase that directly accessed the courtyard. She admired the ingenuity of the builder. Rey appreciated inventiveness, especially when it was nice to look at. Years of scraping together what she could had given her a tactile kind of camaraderie with people who made things. She thumped her hand against the still-solid pourstone.  
  
Inside, without the constant abrasion of blowing sand, the walls were still charred and the few empty barrels and crates showed heat damage. Rey followed the stairs down into a dark passageway. To her left was a locked and reinforced door but stairs on her right opened out into the courtyard.  
  
The entrance area of the home was particularly unsettling, she realized. She had an ominous, overpowering sense that she should not look behind her and Rey scurried down the stairs in an effort to get out.

To the left of her in the pit, a narrower set of stairs led to a high, open door. Rey eyed it with apprehension but decided to climb up. Although she felt rattled, it was more important to know her surroundings.

Her curiosity was rewarded. It was a sleeping loft, insulated from the heat of the surface above her. The doorway provided an excellent vantage point that felt private, like she could peek out while remaining hidden.

The room had been stripped of all electronics like datapads and any other usable, easily portable valuables, but a desk, a table, chairs, storage bins, and a beautiful carpet remained. Whoever had done the looting hadn't bothered with anything heavy or decorative. She knew the type. They were fast and effective but often overlooked the potential of things. And that's where she had come in.

On the far end of the loft, a built-in bed still had a mattress and pillows. A solar-powered lantern lay on its side, wires protruding from a hole in the base.  
  
Although the room looked safe, Rey reflexively held her quarterstaff out in front of her. Any number of venomous animals could be sheltering in a space like this during the hottest part of the day. She shut her eyes and reached out, detecting nothing but herself. Finally, she allowed herself to relax.  
  
The rug beneath her feet had a pattern that reminded her of the dining room ceiling, although much less washed-out. Rey swiped her finger across the surface of the desk; thick, gritty dust coated her fingertip.  
  
She looked around. In places with this much sand, there were two general options. Some people surrendered to it and accepted it as an unavoidable part of life. It had been Rey's basic outlook on Jakku. Others fought it, irritated by the constant abrasion and the way it ended up in every tiny nook. The presence of a carpet on the floor and an actual mattress rather than a hammock led Rey to believe that at least some of those who had lived here were members of the second group.  
  
Her gaze landed on a small broom near the bed. It would have been a quick task with the Force but Rey wanted a tangible closeness while she discovered the room.  
  
She began by dragging the mattress off of the bed and letting it flop out of the doorway, landing on the stairs and an adjacent ledge. Rey allowed the sheets to flutter down into the courtyard; she would wash them when she had enough water. She shook the pillows hard, fluffing them until she could smell the spicy dried herbs inside and left them in the sunlight to air out. The mattress was surprisingly clean as most of the dust had collected in the sheets. Still, she used her quarterstaff to knock anything out of it.  
  
Returning to the bed platform, Rey used the broom to brush the low, vaulted ceiling and the platform, whisking away thin webs and dried bits of insects. The step she stood on was covered with a strange woven fabric that seemed to collect the sand from the undersides of her boots. Rey had heard of people having things in their homes that trapped grit. She wondered if this was similar. With a little prying, she saw that the grains slipped between the fibers and collected in trays that could be emptied. It seemed indulgent to Rey, but since it was already installed, she would honor the intentions of the builder. And a less sandy bed sounded like a good thing, anyway. She could adjust.  
  
After dusting off the tables and storage bins, Rey opened one bin and found clothing, all muted colors and soft textures. She searched through it before moving on to shake out the rug and sweep the floor.  
  
After replacing the bed components, Rey went downstairs to bring the blankets from her pack into the room. With her own things draped over the bed, the room felt fresh and calm. She allowed herself a momentary rest, flopping onto the mattress. It was undoubtedly nicer than the ones she'd slept on while with the Resistance, which were all thick canvas over an insulating but unyielding filling. This conformed to her body without losing shape.

She supposed the room had been Luke's. It had a seclusion that he would have appreciated. Not that there was anybody around for her to hide from now, she thought as she got up.  
  
Collecting the old sheets from the courtyard, Rey headed into the dining room to fix the lamp.

* * *

  
  
Rey threw herself into her work. The repaired light sat by the vaporators, charging, as she hauled buckets of sand to clear a deep recess she had spotted, hoping to find a door. There was much more to do and more efficient ways to do it, but this repetitive, uncomplicated work pacified her.  
  
There was something beneath that, though. Rey told herself that she was just getting back to what she knew. But there was an unseen injury that she was just beginning to touch the edges of.

She didn't want to use the Force. Rey felt betrayed, and she knew she shouldn't. It wasn't a person—it hadn't intended to hurt her. And yet she had been woken up, used, and finally cast aside. Maybe she had only been needed to connect separated, important people and none of it had been meant for her.

It was true all along: she _was_ a nobody, a nameless shadow in a story that wasn't hers. Skirting the edges, prowling for scraps. The most humiliating part was that, for a few moments, she'd had the audacity to think that things were fair. That she could make her own happiness at the end of the fight, when the dust had settled.

But she knew better. And this place felt like the perfect spot for a nobody in a story that was finished.

Rey set her jaw and let the emptied bucket drop. Got back to work.

The truth was that she had a lifetime of practice pushing down grief and pain to stay functional and it was extraordinarily easy to fall back into old habits. Rey had learned to choke things back and keep going. It had been one of her first lessons.

Besides, her friends would return. They knew where she was.

The urge to scratch a single vertical line into the pourstone of the courtyard was overwhelming.  
  
She was stronger than that now, Rey told herself. She had to be strong. People depended on her.  
  
Midway through filling the bucket, the dam inside of her gave way. The weight of it all—her parents' sacrifices, the sickening darkness in her own blood, the deaths the war had brought. Being the sole surviving Force user she knew. Losing Ben with such brutal speed. The way he had surrounded her and then vanished, how she'd only had black fabric to cling to in silent disbelief after he'd gone—came crashing down and she couldn't breathe. Doubled over, she stumbled to a shaded wall. It was only when she leaned against it that her breath could come in short, hiccuping gulps that turned into sobs. Even though she was alone, she clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound.  
  
A consuming hollowness gnawed at her stomach. She searched around, as if her eyes could land on something that would offer her comfort, but found nothing. Nothing to grab onto, nothing to take the place of the part of her that was gone. All she wanted to do was slam her feet into the ground and lash out at something, and she didn't care where she ended up. Inconsolable, Rey crawled up the slope and out of the courtyard.  
  
The vast desert opened up around her, and she was running hard at the horizon. The suns beat down on her and she couldn't stand it. Not the heat, but that she was back to where she'd started—by herself in the husk of something drying out between the dunes, waiting for anything to be bearable.  
  
But it was so much worse knowing what she'd had only a few days before. That she didn't have a clue how to have a funeral for somebody alone. The indescribable guilt she felt with every pounding heartbeat finally caught and swallowed her. That she was here _because_ he wasn't.  
  
Rey stopped running as a surge of rage flooded her. She directed it at the ground with her fingers spread wide and an enormous blast of energy sent the sand in front of her flying.  
  
She couldn't hold in the wail that came from her. Even to her own ears, it sounded animal and foreign, almost a scream, and it emptied her lungs completely. It felt good so she did it again. And again until her throat hurt and she was drained. She swayed where she stood, soundless, with unfocused eyes.  
  
Rey sat down hard. She was on the edge of a ridge she had just created, the sand blown back to expose several moisture vaporators.  
  
She shouldn't have done it like that, she knew, but at least she hadn't shot lightening out of her hands again.

As sunlight hit the newly uncovered solar panels, the vaporator closest to her shuddered to life.  
  
Rey heaved a sigh. It was going to be a long walk back.

* * *

“Rey.” Leia's voice was soft.  
  
Rey was numb, her throat raw.  
  
“I did something,” she confessed, in lieu of a greeting.  
  
“You did,” Leia allowed. “And it's all right.”  
  
“I used anger,” she said, too exhausted to be ashamed.  
  
“Grief is a strange thing.” Leia's words were all understanding and forgiveness and Rey couldn't bear it. She hated that there were different rules because her life had fallen apart at the exact moment when it was supposed to be wonderful. She wanted guidelines; she wanted a teacher. Rey craved normalcy even as she chewed over everything that had changed.  
  
“You knew who my family was,” Rey said finally, feeling revolted at the idea of it all over again. “And you trained me.”  
  
Leia looked serious.  
  
“Who our parents were, and our parents' parents... that's only a small part of who we become. You know the Force moves differently.”  
  
Rey studied her and was suddenly blindsided by thought of Darth Vader's daughter, young and radiant and in love, holding a tiny black-haired baby. Rey was surprised to find she had any tears left, but she was fighting them back. She'd stabbed him, feeling the blade of his own lightsaber searing through his body. Maybe if she hadn't done that, he would have survived. She hadn't been fast enough or strong enough to save him and she could never forgive herself.  
  
“It'll get better with time, Rey.”

Rey shook her head. This wound was spirit-deep, too serious to truly heal. The Force had bound them and torn her, less of a severance and more of a dismemberment. She was forever unmoored.

“No one's ever really gone,” Leia said, seeming indifferent to Rey's inner turmoil. “And a Jedi is never finished with their training.”  
  
“Master, I know there's still a lot for me to learn,” Rey said, feeling defensive. It cut through everything else. “But I am trying.”  
  
Her teacher smiled affectionately.  
  
“I didn't mean you,” Leia said and disappeared in the fading sunlight.

* * *

That night's sleep was fitful and fleeting, crowded with dreams of the stillness Ben had pulled her back from. She dreamed of falling and catching herself by jolting awake, of the room she slept in filling with smoke. In the darkest part of the night, the certainty that Palpatine, grey and sunken, was shuffling along the entrance corridor. He kept his gnarled hands close, letting them hang limp. One rattling sniff and he locked on to her, crouching to rush, suddenly horribly agile as he tore into her room. Rey woke, shrieking and kicking out at the empty floor.

Covered in cold sweat, she listened, lying still as her racing heartbeat slowed.

Finally, she wrapped the blankets tight around her and drifted off again, only to dream of armfuls of sparkling, polished stones that dissolved when she breathed on them.  
  
Sunrise was a hard-won relief.  
  
Rey climbed down stiffly from the sleeping loft and crossed the courtyard to the dining room. Groggy, she emptied one packet of instant caf into a cup and mixed it with sun-warmed water using her finger. Popping the finger into her mouth, she grimaced at the bitter taste. She'd never really enjoyed caf the way other people apparently did, but after a nearly sleepless night she needed the boost.  
  
As she lifted the cup to take a drink, Rey caught a whiff of herself. She took the sip before setting the metal cup down on the table with a clank.  
  
“No,” she said simply, her voice hoarse. She had a small but steady water supply now. She didn't have to live like this. Rey could feel the chalky tightness of dried tears on her face and her clothes were rumpled from tossing and turning.  
  
She poured water from her canteen into a bowl on the table. A bottle of soap, a shaker of powder, a brush, and a clean rag were pulled from her pack. She undressed efficiently, too tired to register more than the brief novelty of being naked in a new place.  
  
Rey unfastened the band around her right upper arm and let the leather fall to the ground with a muffled sound. Out of habit, she ran her hand over the indentations left by the straps and the familiar raised scar tissue. Rey froze when she realized what she was doing.  
  
She hadn't noticed that it was still there. She rotated her arm to inspect the mark. Every other scratch and scar on her body had disappeared, yet that one remained.  
  
Rey took a pensive sip of caf. Maybe she could try to heal it later. If that would even work.  
  
She took down her hair and bent over to flip it before sprinkling powder onto the roots and brushing it out, still thinking. It would probably fade on its own over time. Most scars did. She gathered her hair messily and tied it back to keep it off of her neck.  
  
Dabs and wipes of soap, then a rinse with a fresh bowl of water. Rey felt much better and the delicious sensation of liquid evaporating quickly off of her skin in a cool room as she redid her hair was almost enough to take the edge off of the previous night.  
  
Rey drained her cup, shook out her clothes, and got dressed.  
  
She didn't replace the leather strap that covered her scar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eternally grateful for the Lars homestead cutaway from Star Wars: Complete Locations.


	2. Haunted

Rey studied the massive, convex metal tech-dome. It was ringed with small round windows, enough to let in some natural light without overheating the space below. To her right, the open vehicle utility pit had begun to fill in with sand. She could see the silvery top fin of a Skyhopper—a T-16, if she had to guess from a distance and, in another bay, the insulated water storage tank and vaporator extractor arm on the back of what looked like a Field Hover-Ute. A narrow walkway crossed the open area, just above the sand’s surface, leading from the entrance corridor to a room under the tech-dome.

Rey approached the edge of the pit with cautious steps, unsure if the walls were still solid. There was no counting the number of times on Jakku a seemingly sturdy foothold had given way and sent her sliding. But when her full weight had no effect on the stability of the hard-packed sand, she lowered herself into the space until she was hanging by her fingers and let go. She dropped onto a bare patch of sand, instinctively rolling into her landing to avoid injury. It was satisfying, she realized, to let her body do what it remembered. Dusting off her hands and clothes, she looked back up at the singed wall, streaked with smudges. The upper rim was a darker, reddish color and Rey supposed that the sand had been mixed with something before being compacted. Small, scrubby plants tried to grow from the wall.

She picked her way across the space to the walkway she had seen from above. From this angle, a circular room lay in front of her and she could see the promising glint of sooty but polished metal inside. Her legs seemed to carry her there of their own volition, drawn in by her impulse to explore. Once inside, she saw that rows of artificial lights, unpowered for years, had supplemented the windows in the dome. The open archway to the vehicle utility pit let in even more brightness.

Rey soaked it in, letting herself get distracted by the room packed with things—stripped cables and boxy inverters on the workbench, almost-complete droids, an old speeder tucked away in a maintenance bay to her left. She gave a little hop and made a thoughtful sound when the floor rattled under her boots with movement she had hoped for. It was probably an elevator. Although there had been a fire years ago, the entire space was a treasure trove and relatively undamaged. There was the same uncanny sense of wrongness, of feeling like she was looking at a baited trap. Why had nobody else taken it? And why was she so eager to sink her teeth into it? Maybe she’d become overconfident, she mused. Maybe she liked the mystery. Or maybe, horribly, she didn’t care what happened.

Approaching the curved workbench that ringed part of the garage, she took a quick mental inventory of filters, valves, and capacitors. A compartment for a droid lubrication bath had long since drained of oil. Behind her sat a comfortable-looking armchair and the room felt like a well-loved escape. Rey couldn't help but imagine Luke there—long, blazing afternoons and the faint scent of grease-covered rags. She also indulged in imagining the workshop as it could be—clean and organized, a place where she could spend all day fixing things. Her mouth practically watered at the thought.

The amount of electrical boxes, switches, and recharging stations made Rey suspect that the generator was nearby. First, she headed into the small, adjoining maintenance bay with the speeder, igniting her lightsaber to peer into the shadowy corners. The open metal grating of the floor felt ridged beneath her. The speeder's wide, flat body and angular front marked it as a modified courier. It was easily over fifty years old but had been maintained well. Until there was nobody left to work on it. A long-quiet repair droid sat against the wall.

She powered down her lightsaber and passed through the workshop to return to the tech pit. Rey's eyes traced lines of electrical conduit until they coalesced behind the Hover-Ute. She could see an exhaust pipe extending out from the wall with an access panel next to it. Very promising. Testing the sand compaction, Rey left the walkway and headed over to the small panel. Forcing it open with a kick, she could just make out a transformer. She felt a tickle of self-satisfaction; she was close to the main generator. And if her quickly forming mental map was correct, she needed to go back to the main courtyard.

After retracing her steps and using a narrow wall-mounted control box to climb out of the vehicle pit, Rey was back in the main living area. She stared at the pile of sand covering the place where she had expected to find the door to the generator room. It had to be there.

Rey ran her palm along the wall, feeling for any kind of slope or curve that would indicate an opening. Frustrated, she began to scoop sand with her hands.

“Looking for something?” The voice was dry and gravelly.

Rey yelped and whipped around to see Luke, the blue light faint in the day.

“Luke!” It was all surprised relief.

Her mind was whirring with things to ask him. Although she wasn't sure how much he would remember from his life, especially since it had been many years since Luke had lived on Tatooine, she had to acknowledge that _any_ little piece of information would be useful.

“Is there a door to the main generator?” Rey asked.

Luke squinted up at the top edge of the courtyard, as if getting his bearings. He pointed to a spot in the huge mound of sand. Rey's shoulders dropped.

“That's what I was afraid of,” she said with reluctant acceptance. She'd wanted to do it the hard way and so far, she'd been getting her wish.

“You know you could use the Force for that,” Luke pointed out, the suggestion laced with sarcasm.

Rey ignored him. She needed a feeling of total physical depletion when she dragged herself up to the sleeping loft if she ever wanted to get a solid night of rest again.

Luke watched her as she dug. She used her whole body to pull the sand back.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently.

Rey paused, turning the question over in her mind. Thinking about the awful things that had happened only made her feel worse.

“Yeah,” Rey said. “Is this a bio-converter or was the farm hooked up to a power station?”

Luke sighed and shook his head.

“Rey.”

She shot him a look.

“Okay, fine,” he said, taking the hint. “Both. Tosche Station isn't too far away, but it's expensive. Mostly we used the bio-converter. The portable power generators are probably long gone.”

Rey thanked him and got back to work. Her sweat was drying before it could seep into her clothes. While she’d liked a lot of things about the jungles of Ajan Kloss, the drenching humidity hadn’t been one of them.

“You're staying.” Luke sounded incredulous as he pieced together the implication of her questions, although not entirely surprised. Rey walked around him to retrieve an empty container. “Here?”

“Just for a month,” Rey explained as she filled the bin, suddenly embarrassed by her plan. With the skeptical ghost of Luke Skywalker standing there, it all seemed childish and presumptuous.

“Wow, you _really_ don't want to talk about it,” Luke said.

“No,” agreed Rey. “Not much.”

“It's going to be okay,” he said. “Eventually.”

Rey stopped digging again and sat back on her feet. She ran her fingers through the loose sand next to her, making a fist and then letting it fall out, smooth and almost fluid when she let it go.

“That's what Leia said.”

“It's easier if you just listen to her,” Luke said with equal parts resignation and fondness.

Rey changed the subject.

“I like your workshop,” she told him.

“Thank you. I spent a lot of time in there.” His voice was full of recollection, nostalgic and distant. “Wishing I was somewhere else.”

Rey thought about that.

“Am I keeping you here?” she asked. A familiar, sinking feeling of self-blame started to gather in her chest.

“No. It doesn't work like that.” Luke waited until she met his eyes. “Rey, that's not how it works.”

She nodded and felt his endless serenity and peace. It washed over her. She ducked down to continue filling the container so he wouldn't see her tears.

“So, you're going to want to look out for krayt dragons. And womp rats,” Luke said, attempting to lighten the mood. “If you go to Anchorhead for supplies, you should try some ahrisa. You don't mind flavor, do you?”

Rey shook her head. “I'm not picky.” She hesitated. “Is it made out of womp rats?”

Luke laughed, a roaring, full sound.

“Thankfully, no,” he said when he had collected himself. “Anchorhead and Tosche Station are that way.” He pointed. “You'll hit Tosche Station first. There was a datapad in the workshop with blueprints and schematics.” Luke pulled absentmindedly at his beard as he tried to remember. “Third drawer down, left side of the bench.”

* * *

The datapad was hidden in the far back of a workshop drawer, exactly where Luke had told her. The battery had drained long ago but Rey rewired the solar lamp she'd found to charge it. It was a slow process, but at least the sky was cloudless and two suns couldn't hurt.

While waiting for it to power up, she took a long drink of water from her bottle. It tasted metallic but that was to be expected when the cistern conditioning and pH adjustment systems were bypassed. As it stood, any source of potable water was a luxury. Even if the flavor was a little off.

* * *

Rey let the empty bucket drop to the ground in front of a newly uncovered door. There was a slight gap between the thick metal of the door and where it should have latched shut. Bracing herself, she heaved hard on the panel to slide it open. The sound of sand crunching filled the courtyard as she pulled it just enough to wriggle into the room beyond.

Some sand had gotten in but the generator looked intact. A small, portable generator had been left just inside the entrance. She snorted as she remembered Luke's words, not sure if he hadn't known it was still there or if he had given her directions without her realizing it.

The power switch was on the wall to her left. She lifted the protective metal cover and flipped the bright red toggle.

Nothing. Of course.

She leaned down and tried it again.

Well, not quite nothing. A small click further down the line told her that it might be a relatively easy fix once she got the parts. Power converter? Or a voltage regulator?

The datapad had gotten enough of a charge to turn on. It was an unsophisticated, clunky device, but it would do the job. Pushing buttons to navigate, she scrolled past droid manuals, vehicle upgrade notes, and a map for the security and monitoring system before she found the section for generators. Her eyes flicked over the screen, not sure how long the battery would last. Rey snapped her fingers when she found what she was looking for.

She definitely needed to pick up some power converters.

* * *

Two rust-streaked fusion generator supply tanks sat near the entry dome and a connected vehicle charging port appeared mostly undamaged. Rey prodded the tanks with the toe of her shoe. On Jakku, supply tanks were often one of the first things to be scavenged; they were rechargeable and nearly indestructible. Rey couldn't fault someone for taking fuel from an abandoned farm. The fact that it hadn't happened in decades made her think of the sealed containers of food in the kitchen and the piles of metal in the workshop.

Something about it made her squirm. What if she wasn't supposed to be near this place? Luke would have warned her, right? Nobody even wanted to stay for the ten minutes it would take to load an empty supply tank into a speeder. Sometimes she'd sense people traveling past, keeping their distance. She thought back to the stranger who'd said she hadn't seen anyone there for years. Had Rey made a mistake by staying?

She cleared her mind. That kind of thinking wasn't going to help.

Rey turned her attention back to the charging system.

Although fusion generator supply tanks were old technology, small solar panels had been added to the charging port itself as a later modification and she could connect the portable generator she'd found earlier. It would take a long time to charge a speeder but it was better than nothing if the tanks were empty. She rapped on the metal with her knuckles. One tank sounded like it had some potential.

The last thing left to do would require her to use the Force. And she was only partially confident that the speeder would fit through the wide door but there wasn’t much choice if she wanted to go anywhere. Prying open the tech-dome was the second option and could cause real damage to the inner mechanisms. No, she’d try the door first.

Rey jumped down into the vehicle pit again. Raising a hand to focus, she closed her eyes and pictured the V-35 courier in the maintenance bay. She imagined it weightless, the landing gears rising above the metal floor soundlessly before it coasted out. She pictured it gliding, bumping nothing as it drifted into the vehicle pit. It floated up, smoothly coming to rest on the surface near the charging port.

Rey batted her eyes open, blinking in the bright day. The workshop’s maintenance bay was empty.

* * *

Wind whipped the loose strands of her hair back as the speeder crossed the desert.

She'd loaded up the now-drained supply tank. A refill at the power station would make it good as new, and a tune-up couldn't hurt, either.

After zipping past several moisture farms, a tiny settlement shimmered on the horizon, distinguishable more by the shadows it cast than by the sand-colored buildings. Rey steered into an empty charging bay. Like most power stations in the desert, people tended to stay inside if they could help it and let the machines do the work.

A large droid scooped up the supply tank from the back of the V-35 and rolled off with it as Rey got oriented. She ducked into the first structure that seemed occupied and was met by a small group of people gathered around a table. One older man stood to greet her, wiping his hands with ingrained efficiency on a tattered piece of cloth tucked into his belt before offering her a handshake.

“I'm Laze,” he said. “The owner.”

“Rey.”  
  
His grip was firm without being a challenge.

“What can I do for you?”

She paid for a full charge for the speeder, and a supply tank inspection, service, and refill. Rey followed Laze to a separate building for the power converters and a few large solar panels. The walls were lined with labelled bins and buckets that rattled when the man rummaged for the right-sized washers and a tube of thermal putty.

Finally, at the counter, he gave her a sidelong glance.

“Haven't seen that old courier in years,” he said. “I think Luke would be glad somebody's using it. He put a lot of work into that one. Nothing like the T-16 though.” He trailed off, shaking his head at the memory. “Anyway, I'll have these loaded for you. Feel free to have a look around until the tank's done. There's water in the sales room. Should be about five minutes.”

Rey thanked him and wandered outside. A passing cloud was briefly helping the day feel less stifling, diffusing some of the harsh sunlight.

A woman with long graying hair met Laze on the stairs. She wore a loose shirt and ankle-length skirt. As they spoke privately, he played with the stitching around the hem of her tunic. The simple ease of it, the years of companionship that had led to the moment felt like a punch in the gut.

Rey turned away and kept walking.

* * *

Anchorhead wasn't far. An active outpost, a few vendors had set up stalls near the main hub which offered connections to larger cities on the planet.

There was an unusual feeling of being almost at home, Rey realized as she watched people going about their day. The architecture was different, with pourstone walls and curved roofs. It was full of an unfamiliar mix of scents, the ratios not quite right—the old canvas of vendors' tents, spilled ale and roasting meat from the open door of a cantina, pack animals lumbering by. People clanging wooden spoons against pitchers of milk for sale, trying to get her attention. Her clothes didn't fit in. And the round, greenish fruits that filled display baskets were unlike anything on Jakku. She'd noticed people eating them with obvious relish as they walked past her, so she bought one.

The outside of the fruit was textured but not in an unpleasant way. When she bit through the skin, the sweet, ripe flesh exploded across her tongue. Juice dripped down her chin and collected between her fingers, every bit as delicious as it smelled. Sometimes, in a new place, it paid off to follow the crowd.

Under a drab sun shade, a groundcloth was spread over the sand, showing an assortment of tools, scrap metal, parts, and appliances. Several short, hooded creatures stood behind the display, their faces only glowing eyes. Rey made her way over as she dried her hands.

“You're new.”

She turned to find the speaker. The middle-aged man was standing at a nearby stall, carefully placing a ceramic jar he'd just bought into his bag.

“Yes,” she confirmed. Rey sensed only benign curiosity from him—to be expected in a small town.

“Where are you from?”

“Jakku.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Huh. And you came here?”

Rey understood. She was going to have to get accustomed to the reaction.

“For a bit,” she said. “To work.”

“And what do you do, From Jakku?” More natural curiosity.

“I'm a...” She paused as a hundred images and memories flashed in her mind. “Caretaker,” she finished, amused by the irony.

She asked about the moisture farm and the man shared a nervous look with the creatures running the stall. They spoke animatedly among themselves before explaining something to the man. He asked them a question and they responded with garbled growling. Rey had some competency with languages, having spent years picking up functional phrases quickly to survive. This one was unusually difficult, but there was a word she kept hearing in their exchange, said with reverence.

“They say it's haunted,” he translated for her.

She repeated the word back to him. He confirmed with a nod.

The creatures recoiled in horror.

“Don’t know if they’re on Jakku, but Jawas are scrappers,” the man explained to Rey. “A little aggressive about it, too. They'll take almost anything. I've never, in all my years, heard them talk about a place like that...” He trailed off, studying Rey. “I've heard stories about it, too. For years. At night, people see shimmering lights as they travel past. They swear the vaporators sound like they're working, even under the sand, with no power. Sometimes you can smell smoke—”

He cut himself off, suddenly nervous.

“But that's just stories,” he said. “I'm not trying to scare you. I'm sure there's nothing there.”

Rey realized that the rumors had a grain of truth. They were also very convenient. She'd spent enough time in the desert to know that superstitions were powerful and long-lasting. When resources were scarce and the sun was hot, people tended to avoid the “bad places,” even when they offered shelter. And on a new planet, recovering from the war, she wanted to be left alone. For a while, at least.

“There _is_ something there,” she told him quietly. “All the time.”

He turned haltingly to meet her eyes, and the Jawas chattered in harsh whispers.

“What happened there?” she asked.

The man shook his head.

“You'll have to ask somebody else,” he told her.

“Please,” Rey said. “There are burn marks everywhere and you said that people can smell smoke...”

The man's eyes widened as he took a step back from her, holding out his hand in a protective gesture, like he was blocking her.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I'm really sorry.”

He rushed into the cantina with one last terrified glance over his shoulder.

The Jawas huddled together and peeked up at Rey with their deep, faceless hoods. One kept speaking, almost a chant.

_Haunted._

She shrugged at them and walked away.

* * *

When she returned to the homestead, it was late afternoon. Some kind of feeling filled her as she approached and it took a while to name it.

Fondness. Complicated affection.

Maybe it was knowing that people avoided the place because it was strange. Perhaps it just felt normal to have space to herself after so long crammed in bunks on Resistence bases, to have her own territory again. Maybe she was grateful to have somewhere to collect her thoughts. Or maybe it was simply the amount of effort she'd put into it already, the plans she was starting to form. The little murmur of gratification she was feeling.

Her gaze fell on the blackened outside of the entrance dome as she unloaded the speeder.

Certainly complicated.

* * *

Rey worked fast. Old power converters had components she could use to install the solar panels she'd bought at Tosche Station. After slotting the new converters in, she located the auxiliary bio-fuel bin which, according to the manual, accepted organic waste material. Locking the bin back in place, Rey gave the rest of the generator room a once-over to make sure nothing was leaning against the massive machine.  
  
She stepped up to the panel. At last, it was time.

Rey blew out a slow, steady breath. A lot could still go wrong. Without turning the power on, there was no way to know what had been running when the generator shut down. But she’d come this far and nothing would change if she didn’t keep going.

A deep inhale, a flip of the power switch, and it whirred to life.

She stood still, listening. The low hum she had expected. Something clanked in the direction of the vehicle pit.

Excitedly, Rey stuck her head out of the generator room. The courtyard was aglow in the dusk and the door to the sleeping loft was trying to close but was caught on something, making a rhythmic, thudding noise. She took a quick note of the things that needed to be repaired and the lights that were out before shutting off the generator for the night. Whatever bit of fuel it was running off, she needed to conserve it.

Rey decided to get an early night. Tomorrow would be full of work.

* * *

Dawn lit her sleeping loft through the open door, easing her into the morning. Rey took some time to appreciate the way it set off the white walls and she couldn't hold back the contentment and eagerness she felt. It was like one piece had made all of the other parts of the homestead fit together in her mind, a neglected but intricate system that she had put into motion.

Rey ate while she worked, wiring in the new solar panels as she chewed. As often happened when she worked with her hands, she let her thoughts wander. Mornings had been a social time when she was with the Resistance; people drifted over to the caf and ration packs and talked about the previous night or the plans for the day.

Even though she liked the solitude, it was strange to go from living with a group of people to being by herself. It was different now that everybody had scattered to follow different paths. She thought of Chewbacca with his family, at long last. Maz rebuilding on Takodana. Lando was with Jannah, helping to search for her home. Rey knew Finn and Poe were staying busy. She needed to reach out and she knew just who she wanted to talk to.

When she finished with the panels, Rey grabbed her holoprojector to send a quick holo to Rose.

She pushed the record button, smiled and waved.

“Hi, Rose! I'm on Tatooine for the month. Trying to clean up an abandoned moisture farm.” She looked over at the door. “I only just got the generator running. We'll have to meet up when I'm done here. Where are you? Miss you!”

She sent it and felt a wave of connection.

About half an hour later, her holoprojector chirped with an incoming message. Rey pressed play.

A slightly distorted image of Rose popped up in Rey's hand.

Her jaw dropped. Rose's hair tumbled in loose curls over one shoulder, looking glossy even in the long-distance, monochrome holo. She wore a slinky dress that pooled elegantly at her feet. Rose raised a glass to Rey, beaming.

“Rey! Miss you too! I was just about to say hi. It's like you read my mind.” Rose paused then shook her head, as if reconsidering her phrasing. “Anyway, I'm in Canto Bight! Let's say... networking.” Rose shrugged, making Rey laugh. She knew Rose's feelings about the city and had no doubt that Rose was up to something good, if a bit revolutionary.

“We'll have to talk about it later,” the message went on. “Why does a moisture farm on Tatooine sound perfect for you? I bet there's so much stuff to work on, I'm a little jealous.” Rey glanced down at her own oil-smeared pants and snorted. “Let me know when you're done so we can see each other!” Rose waved and bent down to end the recording.  
  
When it went dark, Rey felt a cozy warmth in the middle of her chest.

* * *

The speeder moved toward the corner of the property as Rey checked the datapad again. According to the map, there was supposed to be a sensor nearby that was a key component of the monitoring system, which tracked movement within the perimeter. It also communicated with other systems about environmental changes, like shifts in temperature or pressure, that could precede a storm, and fluctuations in humidity that would affect the vaporators. Rey squinted at a box perched at the top of a thin pole.

That had to be it.

She climbed down from the speeder and pushed a few buttons on the control panel near the ground. It beeped, flashing a steady green light from the box above. Suddenly the light turned red, indicating movement. Rey waved her hand in front of the sensor; it turned green.

She held down the reset button until it beeped again.

“Rey?”

It was distant and sounded like at least five people speaking.

She froze.

A cacophony of echoes erupted around her and she could just make out a few laughing words.

“...still learning, so...”

It went silent. Goosebumps skittered up her arms.

She'd know that voice anywhere.


	3. Still

Rey gave the garage elevator another test run, watching where the tech-dome opened to see if it needed more lubricant.

She'd tried to put the previous day's events out of her mind. It was the heat, she told herself. She hadn't been drinking enough water, in her rush to repair things. Deserts were strange, open places and she'd been through a lot lately. Noises carried easily on the wind. His voice was burned into her memory. He was gone; she'd watched him vanish. The monitor had picked up some kind of atmospheric interference.

The tech-dome glided and she brought the speeder to rest on the floor of the elevator, pleased by how smoothly it pulled her down into the garage.

“Rey.”

She spun around, looking for him. But it was only the sound. What if this was all she got? Her only chance, gone again before she knew what to do with it? When she'd woken up to him on Exegol, Rey had thought they had time. That there was no rush.

She’d been wrong.

“I love you,” she said in the empty room. The words came easily, surprising her.

“I know,” Ben said gently. “I know you do.”

Rey's chin shook as she held back tears. His voice felt like a caress, a balm that soothed the aching where he had been.

“I think I loved you the whole time,” he said.

She couldn't stop herself from crying. The reverberation of his voice faded and she was by herself again.

But it felt different.

* * *

She found that she talked to him sometimes, even knowing he wasn't there.

“This is apparently an electrostatic repeller,” Rey said. Her arm muscles tensed as she tried to loosen a rusted cap. “Not sure how this one works. But I'm going to find out.” With a pop, the cap came unstuck.

Sliding off the outer housing of the emitter, she found a nondescript switch and flipped it so it lined up with the back of a button. Rey replaced the cap and pushed the button.

Suddenly, she was in the middle of a sandstorm. The sand in the courtyard swirled up around her, whipping and stinging her exposed skin.

Rey instinctively pulled on the fabric of her overwrap to cover her face and stumbled up the stairs to the sleeping loft. She closed the door behind her, gasping. On the other side of the metal, there was a relentless, lashing clinking.

Rey swore.

In the few seconds it had taken her to get into the room, a thin layer of grit had covered every flat surface near the doorway. She couldn't imagine what was happening in the dining room.

She focused on containing the sand as she peeled off her clothes. Rey dropped them into an empty bin to deal with later, hoping that the grate at the bottom would catch the particles. Since the rug was already a mess, she took her hair down and shook her head, letting the sand fall to the floor. She dragged her fingers along her scalp, feeling where the finest bits of sand clung to the oily roots of her hair. Disgusted, she withdrew her hand and inspected her fingertips.

She _really_ needed to find the refresher. If there even was one.

There had to be, she reasoned as she dug through the other bin of clothes. There was a manual for a sonic shower on the datapad.

_The datapad._

She'd had it next to her on the ground when she activated the repeller. Rey swore again.

The sound of sand blowing against the door had died down. She grabbed the first thing she found—a baggy, light tunic that wrapped around. She pulled it on and tied it securely, ensuring that it was closed all the way up to her neck. She'd only needed to have a sunburned chest once on Jakku to learn her lesson.

Besides, she never knew when somebody was going to show up.

When Rey opened the door, the courtyard was transformed. She hadn't appreciated how deep it was. With the sand gone, the pale, paved floor was already reflecting heat.

The container she'd been using to collect water from the vaporators was on its side, in the middle of a rapidly-drying puddle.

Rey sighed. It could be worse. She had plenty of water stored and now that the central vaporators were totally uncovered, they would be more efficient. And she could use the underground cistern.

Several doors to previously-hidden rooms had been revealed.

Rey dumped out her boots before she stepped onto the stairs. The sand that fell out was caught in a delicate breeze as it was lifted up and out of the courtyard.

She watched as the grains were whisked away. Maybe the electrostatic sand repeller wasn't the worst thing.

* * *

Two doors led to living spaces, deeply recessed under an overhang. One room had two beds, clothing and equipment storage crates, and a curved desk. The other was more open, a multi-purpose space that had a large bed that folded into the wall, a low table, and comfortable seats.

One narrow, rounded door next to the dining room was the refresher.

Rey stuck her head in, apprehensive. Refreshers were always a bit of a gamble, especially when they had been abandoned. She lifted up the top of the counter to reveal a sink. She tested it. No water yet, she remembered.

After opening the datapad's scratched case and blowing out the sand, Rey looked over the shower's manual. It was a combination unit that she hadn't encountered before—a sonic that could use water, too.

The composting toilet had its own entry in the datapad, listing numerous modifications. Rey groaned internally. Taking a walk and digging a hole wasn't so bad but it was already starting to get old, especially in the middle of the night. And her arrival had coincided with the start of her usual near-week of bleeding, necessitating some creative, Jakku-tested solutions that might eventually interest the local wildlife.

Besides, the unit could be used with the bio-converter generator.

Gingerly, she pulled on the handle of the collection bin underneath and peeked inside. It wasn't empty.

Rey wasn't squeamish but there was something about shaking the dry powder into the auxiliary bio-fuel bin that made her think about the lights a little differently.

* * *

After reconnecting the cistern and repairing the sonic shower, it was time to test it out.

She started by shaking out her clothes in the courtyard. The sonic was equipped with a place to hang laundry so it could be cleaned when she was done. For the time being, she let it crumple on the floor.

She slid open the sonic’s door and stepped in. The drainage holes in the basin were small enough to not be uncomfortable. On the wall there was a control dial which allowed her to adjust for temperature and intensity. Nozzles ringed the inside of the shower and when Rey turned the dial to the lowest setting, she felt a slight pressure in the air around her. As she turned it up the pressure began to pulse, knocking the oils and sand from her hair and skin. Sonics did the job but she had never felt truly clean after using one.

She pushed the button in the center of the dial. Icy water rushed down from the showerhead above her.

Rey hissed as it hit her warm skin, scrambling to move out of the way. Too late, she noticed that the central button could also be rotated to change the temperature. The water quickly warmed and the sonic drove it across her body, vibrating. She rubbed her face then reached up to detach the showerhead so she could direct the water through her hair, under her arms and between her legs. She gave her feet some extra attention, happy to feel the last bits of grime washing away.

When she was done, Rey turned off the water and let the air dry her.

Stepping out, she had to admit that it was a great combination. It was more invigorating than relaxing but she felt very clean and she was sure that she could play with the settings to make it more soothing if the mood ever struck her. And it hadn't used much water at all.

Rey draped her clothes over the unfolded rack inside and turned on the sonic again, running it until no sand hit the floor.

She let her hair hang loose to finish drying as she got dressed.

* * *

The boxy, weathered EG-6 power droid lay on the workbench, motionless. Rey twisted the corner of a rag into the joint between one of its legs and the outer case, removing the buildup of grit. Without an oil bath, she had to manually clean the old droid but it was a methodical project that gave her a chance to rerun some frayed wires.

When she was done, she set the droid on the garage floor and flipped the activation switch on the underside.

The droid jittered and lit up, immediately taking a slow, shambling step. She watched for a while as the droid tottered around the room, searching for something to charge.

“Hello,” she said, knowing that it couldn't understand her in any meaningful way. It was ridiculous, but she felt a swell of emotion for this quietly honking, uncomplicated thing that she'd woken up. “I'm Rey.”

* * *

The newly uncovered seating area had soon become one of her favorite places to be. It felt open to the central space but sheltered from overhead, tucked back. Once, she had fallen asleep there to the sounds of insects chirping high above her on the surface, but ended up retreating to her own bed when she woke up shivering in the frigid night.

Rey fluffed a floor cushion in the room, letting it plop to the ground. It was the perfect texture for seated meditation—dense but moldable. She got into a comfortable position and slowed her breathing. Her eyelids floated shut.

Rey could hear the power droid shuffle around the now-cleared vehicle pit. The droid's unobtrusive, repetitive movements were soothing. The cistern trickled quietly in the background.

It was easy to drop into her breath. The Force was all around her here in the quiet. Enveloping and flowing. She didn't push, only let it drift through her.

“Rey.” It was a whisper.

She opened her eyes, soaking him in. Ben was wearing what he wore when he died—a plain black shirt, untorn now, that looked almost jarringly simple after thick hoods and wide leather belts. His broad, sloping shoulders she knew were under the fabric. Rey had tried so hard to recall the details of him, mourning the way she'd forgotten the slight curl of his eyelashes or the soft movement of his hair.

Now that he was standing in front of her again, translucent in the daylight and framed by the wide archway to the courtyard, she realized that every part of him was a miracle. Tears slid down her cheeks.

“Missed you,” he said finally. He didn't sound wistful or sad. Just content.

Rey smiled and wiped her face.

“I missed you, too,” she choked out. He was bathed in a pale blue glow.

Rey wasn't sure if the words she was using were strong enough. Yes, he was gone. Yes, he was with her. She couldn't remember which part mattered.

“Bad timing,” he said apologetically, gesturing to her meditation cushion.

Rey laughed. Her nose sounded stuffy from crying.

“Perfect timing,” she said.

Ben stared at her lips and started to fade.

“It takes practice,” he explained.

She blinked at the sunlight through the empty doorway like she was waking up.


	4. Seen

Cleaning the kitchen was long overdue. Rey had been putting it off, remembering the smell and the singed walls and the apprehensive feeling, but she had a plan now.

She worked fast, unsealing a container, dumping the contents into the trash bin along with any withered dead bugs she found, and loading the empty canister and lid into the sonic dishwasher. When there was no room left, Rey took a break while the dishwasher ran to take the trash to the generator, wash her hands, and get some fresh air.

Her life felt different now that she had seen Ben, she acknowledged to herself. It wasn't like he was alive; she couldn't pretend that it hadn't happened.

But he also wasn't gone all the time. Not forever. There was a part of her that wasn't missing.

She had so many questions for him. Could he always hear her? Had dying felt the same for him as it had for her? Was he laughing at how many times she had dry heaved while throwing away moldy fruit in his uncle's old house?

The dishwasher buzzed. Rey groaned.

When she was done, the kitchen was pristine. She had scoured off the soot, fixed and adjusted the cold storage units, emptied the crates and baskets under the counters, and swept the floor. Sterilized containers lined the shelves, waiting to be filled. She'd even found some kind of built-in appliance that dispensed liquid and spent an hour scrubbing the internal tanks and nozzles.

To finish, she brought in her own ration packs and equipment, and the remainder of the food she'd bought in Anchorhead, tucking everything into an empty cabinet to wait for the next time she was hungry. Which, now that she thought about it, she was.

Rey assessed her work. She had never had so much space. The more she spread her things around and put them in the correct rooms, the more at home she felt. It seemed expansive, like she could unfurl.

Rey tore open a ration bar and bit off a chunk.

* * *

“Do you have to concentrate to be visible?” Rey asked, swiveling in the desk chair. They were in her room. It was nonsensical, considering everything they had been through together but she was nervous now that Ben was in the small, intimate space. The spinning movement was calming.

“A little. Using the Force feels different now,” he said. “And this gets easier the more I do it.”

It was nighttime and Rey had programmed the lights to dim, conserving energy. Ben appeared much more opaque in the low light.

Sitting down on the edge of her bed, he gave it a bounce, craning his neck to see if he was leaving an impression on the mattress. It made her stomach flip. On top of him being a spirit, she was still adjusting to uninterrupted Ben Solo rather than just catching glimpses of him within Kylo Ren.

“I've never been here,” Ben said. He seemed at ease as he looked curiously around the room.

“The whole place is a project,” she said, embarrassed, thinking of everything she needed to do. She kicked a dirty pair of pants under the desk, hoping he hadn't noticed.

“If you want help...” Ben stopped. “I know you can do it yourself. I'm not sure I can even pick things up yet.”

The thought of an individual consciousness within the Force manifesting itself in the physical realm just to pass her a hydrospanner made a giggle bubble up in Rey's chest. She bit it back.

“Soon,” she managed to say. “I'll let you know.”

“Is this where you sleep?” He leaned back into the pillows, stretching out. There was that flopping feeling again.

“Yes.”

Ben extended an arm above his head, studying where his hand rested against the wall for a moment before it passed through the pourstone. He pulled it out and rubbed his fingertips with his thumb, the movement rhythmic.

“Is this where you...” He let it trail off suggestively.

Was he asking about...

Her cheeks reddened.

“No.”

He turned to look at her, surprised.

“In the sonic?”

“Ben!”

_Both._

He smiled to himself.

“Do you _watch_ me?” she asked angrily.

“Never. I just guessed and you're a terrible liar.”

Rey relaxed.

“So you're not waiting around, watching?”

“No. It's hard to describe. I can pull myself out of...” He waved around himself, indicating some nebulous place. Rey understood. “That. And I can decide to check on you but it's just vague emotions. I have to be with you to see or hear anything now.”

“Oh.”

“You can always tell me to leave,” he added. “I'm not good with time.”

She nodded, wondering if he knew that sometimes she wanted him to watch.

* * *

“Do you breathe?”

The next evening, they were in the dining room. Rey liked the pattern of it—long days of work alone and talking to him at night for a while until he had to go.

She poured herself some tea. Purchased in Anchorhead, it was bracing and pungent when hot, and it cooled to something refreshing that Rey had developed a taste for.

“I don't need to,” Ben said. “But I can.”

He demonstrated with a deep inhale that made his chest rise. Rey stared at the way his shirt strained.

“Your turn,” he said, eyes glittering wickedly.

Rey made a show of stretching and raising her arms overhead and taking in a huge breath that lifted her breasts under her clothes.

She let her arms fall to her side.

“Like that?” she asked coyly.

“Yeah.” Ben cleared his throat. “Like that.”

Rey took a sip of cold tea.

“You know,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially. “It was all worth it just to sit here and watch you breathe.”

She shot him a pointed look over the rim of her cup but couldn't stop a grin. Though there was a strange pang of sadness, too.

“I'm sorry we didn't have time to...” He gestured between the two of them. “More.”

“Time to...?”

Ben shifted, suddenly awkward.

Understanding, Rey blushed.

“Oh. Me too,” she admitted. She'd spent nights feeling robbed, like something they had profoundly deserved had slipped through her grasp.

There was a long pause, both lost in thought. Rey had never really known what to call what they were. A dyad seemed more like a title than something she could choose, and things were even stranger now. Inside of that, though, there was a feeling that she knew the name of.

Her mind wandered along a well-worn path but this time, she said it out loud.

“We could be a family,” Rey told him.

Ben laughed. There was nothing mocking in it. It was a happy, full-throated, and deep sound that made Rey's heart skip a beat.

“Weird family,” he pointed out.

“Did you know any families that weren't?”

“Rey,” he said, “you don't have to use past tense.”

The meaning behind it—that he was still there, still him—felt warmer than the blanket wrapped around her shoulders to fight off the cold night air.

“Do you know any normal families?” Rey corrected.

Ben was already considering the question.

“No.” He ran his fingers over his mouth thoughtfully. “Okay, that's a good point. Speaking of family,” he added. “If anybody asks, especially on Tatooine, you've never met a Solo in your life.”

“Big fan club?”

“Huge.”

Rey fought to keep her gaze from dropping to his lap. Instead, she became very interested in a patch of chipping paint on the wall.

“I told someone my name is Rey Skywalker.” She blurted it out, anxious to get the confession over with. Even if he already knew. “Luke and Leia seemed alright with it.”

He stared at her for a long while. She rubbed her boot against the floor, feeling a few scattered grains of sand crunch under the pressure. His eyes seemed soft when she looked back up at him.

“Yeah,” he said. “Good.” His voice was gentle. “Really weird family, though.”

Rey let out a burst of laughter. She imagined that she could hear it rolling out into the dark desert.

* * *

Since arriving at the homestead, Rey had been intrigued by the large, slatted white panel in the courtyard. After poring over the schematics, she thought it must be part of the control system for a hydroponic chamber. There was a door on either side of it, both with locked and disabled access panels.

Rey wanted to get to the cistern that was fed by the cap on the surface, near the entrance dome. According to the blueprints, it should be through the door to the right, deeply-recessed and near the base of the stairs to the sleeping loft.

She'd only tried the door's lock a few times before going into the garage to find something to pry off the casing. She slid the flattened end of the tool in, wedging firmly against the metal frame before giving it a quick twist. The cover popped off. From the tangled nest of wires it revealed, she plucked out the two she needed. A few tugs, a few sparks, and the door opened. The air that gusted out smelled vaguely organic, like dried vegetation and salt.

She took a step inside.

The cistern itself looked serviceable. There was some corrosion on the pressure release valve, but otherwise it seemed undamaged. The small level-indicator window confirmed that the cistern was empty. It was a larger, secondary tank, used to store water harvested from the farm itself, separated from the main supply for the house.

To her left, a sealed door opened as she approached and the lights in the chamber beyond flicked on. She'd known what was in the room, but being in it was something very different.

The cavernous space was filled with narrow rows of tanks, towers dotted with holes, and an overhead support grid. The remnants of vines twisted along cables, stretching up to the lights. There were several large tubs with desiccated tree trunks protruding from sandy soil. All were fed by the secondary cistern, which had let fertilized, aerated water flow through the enclosed reservoirs.

It was clear that when the sensors had failed, the temperature and moisture levels in the chamber couldn't be regulated. Some of the plants had lingered, but with stagnant water and no light, they had all eventually withered and putrefied before everything dried out.

On the edge of the tray closest to her, a leaf had stuck. Rey flaked it off.

The garden had a stuffy, tomb-like quality that made her want to be still but she could already feel the fresh air filter in through the open door.

A work table and shelf stood behind her. Plastic mesh, stacks of small pots, and vials of seeds were crammed haphazardly into every available nook. She thought it was unlikely that the seeds were still good, but trying to sprout them would be a simple task. Rey had never planted anything before, but she was willing to learn. If she could repair the sensors in the courtyard, she could make the space functional again.

She flipped through the datapad once more. The systems were complicated—different than the things she was used to working on. But the appeal of a steady supply of food so close was hard to resist.

Rey wondered at herself as she removed the lid of the nearest reservoir to clean it out. She was gone at the end of the month. Nothing would have time to produce and yet she couldn't stand to leave the place dead and unprotected, the chamber parched and unplanted.

What if one of her friends needed a place to stay? She could give them the coordinates, she thought wildly, and the security access code. She could leave behind supplies—food, blankets, fuel. Make a guide on the datapad for visitors and leave it on the kitchen table. The cisterns filled up slowly but steadily; she could stop by a few times a year to harvest and sell water, and check on the garden. With only the grow lights on, the homestead could power the monitoring systems indefinitely.

Rey had rebuilt a KPR servant droid she'd discovered in pieces on the floor of the vehicle pit. The deceptively simple housing of the droid now hid the substantial security upgrades she'd made. It was far more protection than was needed for a moisture farm on an Outer Rim planet, especially for a place that had a reputation for being haunted. But the knowledge that the droid was out there patrolling let her sleep a bit more soundly.

She scooped out the dried roots and sediment from a grow tray.

If only core systems ran, she mused, the farm was practically self-sustaining. She was proud of the work she'd done, but Rey knew that one day, the homestead would be almost as empty as she'd found it. She was only a temporary guardian.

The thought of it going on after she had left was bittersweet, like a peace that wasn't hers to keep.

* * *

Rey stopped the Hover-Ute at the next vaporator. Pressing a button, she watched as the extractor arm maneuvered over to a tower. She flipped on the auto-siphon. Recalling the story she'd heard in Anchorhead of vaporators working beneath the sand, Rey had decided to check them for any old water. The first few had been dry.

The auto-siphon began to click as it drew up liquid. Over her shoulder, she saw a shallow line of dingy water sloshing around the bottom of the water-storage tank. It wasn't much and it was brown with rust, but the cistern would filter and disinfect what she harvested. Rey made a note on the datapad and looked out at the dozens of vaporators stretching out into the distance. She let her next exhale puff out her cheeks.

It was a lot of work for something that flowed freely on most planets.

* * *

When she was done, she gave the cistern cap a final shake, making sure it was secure. She'd collected a little over half a tank of water and she listened to it start to percolate through the cistern's filtration system.

Nearby, something moved.

For a fleeting moment, Rey thought it was Ben. Glowing in the vanishing daylight, long hair curled down to brush the man's broad shoulders. But the tall figure's heavy cloak told her it wasn't him.

The man stood silently, fixated on a bare patch of ground as if lost in thought.

He turned to Rey and nodded in greeting before fading away.

She marked the spot with a small piece of metal sheeting.

* * *

The next morning, Rey checked the air intake and exhaust vanes for the hydroponic room. She'd been able to unlock the large storage area to her left. It was full of household items. Replacement parts, medical supplies, old ration packs. Powdered pigments that could be mixed with water to make paint, unused mattresses for extra guests.

Luke was in the courtyard.

“I like what you've done with the place,” he said.

“Glad you approve.”

She saw her chance.

“Luke, what happened here?”

He slowly made his way over to the entrance steps and sat down, like he had been waiting for the question.

“The people who raised me were killed by Imperial stormtroopers and the house was burned.” He spoke bluntly but it was a relief to hear somebody say it. She had suspected.

“There are burials,” he went on. “Members of the Lars family. Shmi Skywalker.”

Rey wasn't disturbed. Life and death were intertwined here in a strange way. In her, too.

“The Lars family raised you?”

Luke nodded.

“You know, Rey, I've been thinking.” He sounded nonchalant. “The deed for this place probably expired a while ago. Anybody could come along and claim it.”

He gave her a significant glance.

“They could just go to the municipal council in Anchorhead, walk up to one of those terminals, put it under their name. Pay some taxes. And it would be theirs.”

Rey could feel her pulse racing at the thought of a stranger taking the homestead. Her work. The dreams she was starting to have. She knew she shouldn't be so attached.

“Why would somebody do that?”

“Oh, I don't know. Maybe they want a home or a steady source of income. Maybe it means something to them.” Luke got up and started pacing around the courtyard as he spoke. “Maybe they're comfortable in the desert and like fixing things. Maybe they just want a place to be left alone.” He stopped. “Or maybe they _don't_ want to be left alone.”

She tried to be impartial, to imagine a happy family living there. But picturing somebody climbing up to the sleeping loft or getting food from the kitchen made her feel odd.

* * *

“I saw somebody yesterday,” Rey told Ben that night in the dining room, pointing above them. “Standing outside.”

She hadn't been able to shake the wistful expression on the man's face when he'd politely acknowledged her. There was something uncanny and striking about him.

“I think it was Anakin,” Rey whispered.

“Probably,” Ben said, his voice placid. If anything, he seemed amused. “Did you talk to him?”

Rey balked at the question.

“And say what?”

“'Hi'?”

She scoffed.

“He knows who you are, Rey,” Ben explained. “And he chose to appear there.”

As Ben stood and stretched, she considered that. Perhaps Anakin had only wanted to show her where the burials were.

Ben reached up to the ceiling, tracing the lines of the painted pattern.

“Do you think we could touch?” Rey asked, watching him.

“Each other?” Ben asked. His arm dropped. “Right now?” There was definite edge of nervousness.

“Nevermind. I don't want to scare you off.” Rey fully acknowledged to herself the absurdity of saying that to a tall, muscular ghost standing in front of her with nobody else around for miles.

“I'm not scared. I actually don't know if I can be scared anymore,” he added thoughtfully, as if it had only then occurred to him. “I just don't want to hurt you. I'm still learning how this works.”

She pursed her lips as she thought.

“Luke grabbed a lightsaber I threw,” she pointed out.

Ben reflected on that as he glanced around the room.

“We could try passing something back and forth first,” he suggested.

Rey went over to her pack and dug around in it.

“You threw a lightsaber at Luke?” Ben asked her as she searched.

“No,” said Rey. “Not... exactly. But he did catch it.”

Ben made a skeptical sound. Rey ignored it. She grabbed the first small thing in her bag that fit easily into her hand.

The homing beacon's blue light was blinking steadily.

“The other one's near the Falcon,” Ben said. It was less of a question than she expected.

She nodded anyway and Ben walked over, holding his hand out. She dropped the beacon into his palm.

He seemed pleased with himself.

The transmitter she kept in the corner crackled to life, making Rey jump. She could hear Finn's voice coming through the static.

“Rey? Are you alright?” He sounded worried. “Come in, Rey.”

She ran over to it and adjusted a few knobs before pressing a button to respond.

“Hi, Finn. I'm fine. Was just trying something.”

“Maybe tell us first, next time,” said another voice. Poe.

Rey looked back at Ben and rolled her eyes as Poe kept going. Ben grinned while putting the beacon down on the table.

“Finn and I are trying to _relax_.” Poe said the last word with added emphasis, like he was teaching her a new language. “You should try it. Might do you some good.”

They could hear Finn saying something in the background.

“Sorry,” Poe said quickly.

“It's back,” Finn told her. “The signal just zoomed way off there for a second. Out of range.”

Rey and Ben shared a look.

“Sounds about right,” said Rey.

“How's it going?” Finn asked conversationally. “We’re on Coruscant. It's amazing. We'll have to bring you here to see it.”

Rey gave Ben an apologetic wave as she responded. He shrugged, not seeming to mind the interruption at all.

“I'd love to.” She stopped to do a quick mental calculation of the route they had planned to take after they left Tatooine. “Coruscant? How did you get there so fast?”

“Used some tricks, made a few little upgrades,” Poe said. There was an unmistakable note of cockiness and Rey assumed it was better for now if she didn't know the details.

“Excellent. Things are great here,” Rey said. “Got a few of the vaporators running. Everybody thinks this place is haunted so they leave me alone.”

“It does kinda have a feeling,” Finn admitted.

Ben pointed to himself and raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah, it does,” Rey replied with a laugh. “I like it, though.”

“Good. Gotta go,” Finn said. “Poe won't shut up about some nightclub—”

“It's _the_ Outlander Club!” Poe shouted.

“Yeah, that one,” Finn said. “Stay safe, Rey. Say hi any time.”

“You too,” Rey said.

She released the button and turned excitedly to Ben.

“So you _can_ hold things.”

“Apparently,” he said. “But that's an object. It could still hurt you and I want to learn more before I try. Finn said it seemed like the beacon was relocated.”

Rey chewed the inside of her cheek.

“What if it's just like the bond?” Something jogged her memory.

She showed him the scar on her arm.

“I still have this. Everything else healed or disappeared. Even your scar went away when I healed you.”

Ben bent down to get a better look. He was close enough to touch and everything in her was telling her to try it. But she'd let it happen in its own time. Not now, and not a surprise.

“Are those hands?” he was asking, amazed. “You kept this covered for a long time.”

“It hurt.” Rey hesitated. “To look at.”

Heat ran through her body as his searching gaze met hers.

“I'm so sorry, Rey.” Ben said it slowly and simply. She felt the weight of each word.

Rey tore her eyes away to stare down at her arm. She didn't need to hear an apology from him but now that she had, realizing that she was the only one he could apologize to, she didn't know how to feel. Next to the enormity of what he had done, or of what he had knowingly given up, the words seemed small.

“You don't have to say anything,” he said, seeming to picking up on her conflicted emotions. She was grateful for it.

“Do you think we still have the bond?” she asked him as she traced her scar.

“I think it might have changed,” he said. “But I can still sense it.”

“I can too,” she said. She didn't want to admit that she had felt the bond tearing, disarticulating, when she was gone. That it had only popped back into place when she'd been able to breathe again. And the way it had finally gone quiet for her. She tried to find the words for something she needed to tell him. “I'm sorry I didn't save you.”

Ben exhaled in a huff, part disbelieving laugh and part sigh.

“Rey.” His voice was brimming and kind.


	5. Tasted

She meditated more than she ever had. Without the texts to re-read or lessons to follow, Rey found that her daily routine had taken on a different quality; less of a training and more of a practice. As the galaxy slowly recovered from war, she could sense her own focus shifting to something balanced. Intuitive and unrestricted, she let herself move between combat drills and deep meditation, a flurry of movement or the hushed simplicity of immersing herself in the Force.

She had time to pick apart her feelings, to admit that it was still terrible to watch Ben disappear when he left. Never as gut-wrenching as the first time, but the sense of being left behind was visceral. She always had the urge to ask him to stay, which seemed unspeakably selfish when she was so lucky to have him at all.

When Ben was there, Rey felt echoes of his emotions, ripples across the surface of a deep pool, not like the hurricane when he'd been alive. And she had to admit that the layers of him had become a new kind of beautiful, saturated with softer things.

It was like the more time they spent together, the louder those echoes became.

* * *

“Where are your clothes?” Ben asked her. This time, he sat in the desk chair, twisting it a little back and forth.

On her bed, Rey plucked at the neckline of the plain brown robe she was wearing, confused. She'd found it in the downstairs bedroom and the long, wide sleeves covered her hands.

“Please tell me you can see this,” she said with a sinking feeling. Leia would have said something, she reasoned; Luke wouldn't have been able to keep a straight face. But it had never occurred to Rey to ask exactly what they could see.

“Yeah.” He smiled but his eyes raked hard over her. “I mean your normal clothes.”

She pointed to the white bin next to him.

“I wait until after you leave to change,” she explained. He always had on the same thing and it just seemed right. “But I didn't tonight.”

“Is that what you wear to bed?”

“No, I—” Rey caught herself. The truth was that she'd taken his torn, bloodstained shirt with her when she left Exegol, like a morbid talisman. She had washed it since then, of course. Sometimes Rey put it on, barefoot in her room while she read the datapad at night, when she wanted to feel him around her again. It was enormous on her, coming almost down to her knees. The other truth was that, when she was alone and it was time to climb into bed, she wore nothing.

“I don't wear this,” she finished.

Ben stopped the chair mid-swivel.

Between them, the pause stretched into something serious.

“Do you want to show me?”

She did. And she wanted more than that. Her movements were slow, loosening the knot of the belt. She wanted him to see her. Only him.

“Will they know?” she asked. An incomplete question that he'd understood anyway.

He shook his head, lips parted slightly.

When Rey let the robe open, his exhale was long and audible, all reflexive muscle memory from life. She watched him as the fabric slid down her arms, the way he was breaking with every new part of her that was revealed. The air tickled across her skin.

Finally, he got out of the chair and took a steady but cautious step toward her.

Rey leaned back onto the bed, letting her legs slide apart with deliberate smoothness.

“Show me,” Ben said. It wasn't quite begging but it was close. “Please.”

Rey closed her eyes so it felt like she was by herself, so it would be simple. Her hands ran easily over her body before coming to rest between her legs. She started to touch herself lazily, in that way that helped her fall asleep. She'd done it for years—aimlessly swirling until she drifted off. A familiar thing in a surreal situation. They were in completely uncharted territory and the air felt thick; she moved tentatively at first, slow so he could stop her. If they shouldn't do this.

When Rey finally looked over, his stare was locked on the movements of her hand. The mechanical, unhurried way she'd been touching herself suddenly seemed a long way off. Something heavy was kicking in, making her body hum.

She'd envisioned so many scenarios of him touching her, rough and wet. Never like this. Doing it for him, in front of him.

Her ears were ringing.

She had spent long night hours thinking about the expanse of his chest, imagining what it would feel like to move against him with sweat-slicked skin, to find out if he felt as solid as he seemed.

There was a second of hesitation in him, one last instant before he decided to pull off his shirt and let the front of his pants flap open. He gripped himself roughly and there was a flash of relief across his face before a building want set in. Rey's eyes blazed trails over his shoulders, along his moving arm, down the tensing flatness of his stomach, and came to rest where short dark hair was meeting his sliding, fisted hand. Rey could almost feel all of her blood rushing through her as he watched, every drop of it roaring.

Nobody had to know, she told herself. That it was happening and that Ben was in front of her somehow and pressing his lips together as she sped up. That the pads of her fingers were getting wrinkled from the dampness. That his body had been like that under all those layers the whole time, that he could barely stand as he pumped his hand faster.

Rey had never noticed until then, with him listening, but she made noises when she came.

“I don't know if I can—” Ben's eyes widened in surprise as his orgasm cut him off and he hurried to cup his hand, shaking. Losing focus, he faded away.

Her arms flopped to the bed, her mind a coiled mess of frustration and contentedness.

* * *

The next afternoon, Rey heard an alarm blaring from the security droid on the surface above her. Then a nearby shout.

In the dining room, she listened while she snatched her blaster and lightsaber from the table.

“Intruder within the perimeter,” the droid announced loudly, drowning out a person's voice. Within seconds, it would begin the programmed countdown.

After checking the upper rim of the courtyard, she ran to the entrance stairs. A centering breath and she reached out with the Force, feeling a single sentient, signature feeble. Desperation overriding their fear as they approached, almost to the dome.

Rey tightened her grip on the lightsaber.

She burst out of the entrance dome and nearly knocked over a Twi'lek woman. The stranger slumped limply against the pourstone.

“Intruder within—” The droid was getting louder.

“Cancel alert.” Rey interrupted the droid, annoyed. She needed to make some adjustments to the new programming. “Continue patrol.”

The security droid beeped and rolled away.

“What's wrong?” Rey asked.

She held the woman up as she checked for injuries. Lips cracked and bleeding, tongue swollen. Rey was already helping her down the stairs before an answer came.

“Water.”

As the two shuffled along into the dining room, Rey could feel relief and uncertainty rolling off of her in equal measure.

“Wait here,” Rey said as she deposited the stranger into a chair. The woman's breathing was shallow and fast and she gestured weakly to Rey before sinking forward to let her forehead meet the table with a thump and a hiss of pain.

In the kitchen, Rey mixed a scoop of rehydration powder with cool water and sloshed it around.

When she returned, the woman was shivering. Rey placed the cup down in front of her; she was on it in an instant, quaffing.

Under the table, Rey stretched her hand out. It wouldn't take much healing to help with the more serious symptoms; just a little boost...

“This stuff is amazing.” The woman smacked her lips and swirled her glass, peering inside. “Feel better already. Thanks.”

“You're welcome.”

A pause.

“I'm not doing the name thing.”

“Me neither,” said Rey, relieved. The woman had secrets, undoubtedly, but Rey sensed insurrection with an underpinning of good intentions. A familiar blend.

“My vehicle broke down on the far edge of the salt flat and I didn't have enough water.”

Rey studied her hunched frame, the woman's vibrant skin noticeably flushed from the sun and overheating.

“You shouldn't be out here if you don't know what you're doing,” Rey said with reproach.

“I could tell you the same thing,” the woman shot back, glancing out at the courtyard. “I've heard some _really_ messed up stories about this place.”

Rey allowed the comment to settle between them, her face impassive.

The woman fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat. More trepidation.

“And I know what I'm doing,” the woman said sharply, switching gears. “Just had some bad luck with an old speeder bike.”

“I'm sorry,” Rey said earnestly. She'd spent so much time on Jakku being underestimated and treated like she was an ignorant visitor. She shouldn't have done the same. “Do you need parts?”

The woman flapped her hand at Rey.

“Yeah but it's an old 614-AvA. There's no way you have anything that would work.”

It was true.

“I was heading into Anchorhead anyway,” Rey said. “I can take you.”

* * *

In town, the woman slung a bag over her shoulder and the metal inside clanked. She'd found what she needed and hired someone to get her back to the speeder bike. There was a coarse tenacity to her that Rey liked.

It was easy to become entangled in thinking about the threads of chance and luck and the Force, but Rey couldn't shake the feeling that the woman's life would have taken a very different turn if nobody had been at the homestead.

“Take care,” Rey said. Maybe their paths would cross again. Maybe not.

“You too. If you're ever in Mos Espa, I'll find you. I owe you one.”

“You don't owe me anything,” said Rey. The desert was a harsh and dangerous place, she knew, but it had its own kind of capricious generosity. She had learned long ago to surrender to it.

A goodbye wave and they parted ways.

Rey wandered between the vendor stands. Walking past a booth, she caught a whiff of something delicious. On an impulse, she approached and pointed to a pile of crispy balls of dough. She didn't know what it was called, but she wanted it.

“One, please.”

“Ahrisa?”

She nodded and paid. So that's what Luke had been talking about.

The speckled sphere was dense and heavily spiced. The heat came soon after she swallowed but was never unpleasant.

Rey stocked up on supplies—food that would store well, fertilizer and more seeds for the garden, another blanket, new medpacs, oil for the droid lubrication bath in the workshop. More tea, and small gifts for her friends.

As she loaded up her speeder and locked it with the fingerprint scanner she'd added, Rey noted a trader buying water. A hose had been fitted into the tank on the back of a parked speeder. The merchant and farmer both watched the numbers spinning on a counter while they chatted with professional familiarity. The conversation moved easily from market prices to the weather as Rey walked away.

Finally, she arrived at the municipal building. Taking up one side of a sun-baked central plaza, it was the tallest structure in Anchorhead. Thin, dark red flags snapped in the wind as Rey climbed the steps.

Inside, the rotunda was hushed but busy, with illuminated directory signs standing in the center of the room.

She approached one of the data kiosks off to the side; tapping the menu a few times, Rey found the section for deeds. She just wanted to check, she assured herself. It could already be under somebody's name and she wouldn't have to make any decisions.

Pulling up a map, Rey located Tosche Station and traced the route she'd taken until she found the homestead. The area within the boundary lines looked even larger than what she had guessed.

Rey selected it.

 _Property Type: Residential/Agricultural (Moisture farm)  
_ _Status: Abandoned and unclaimed  
_ _Annual Production: N/A  
_ _Owner(s): Deceased_

Rey blinked at the screen.

“Can I help you?”

The droid speaking to her had an unusually natural voice.

Rey hesitated.

“I'm trying to—”

“If you would like to find information about a parcel, say yes now,” the droid interrupted loudly.

Rey stayed silent, waiting to hear more options. It was hard to know what she wanted to do when she wasn't even entirely sure why she'd come here. Just practicing, Rey told herself. For next time.

“If you would like to change the name on a deed, say yes now. If—”

“Yes,” said Rey quickly. Was she really doing this? She swallowed hard.

The droid shoved a smaller datapad into her hands.

“Please select the parcel and enter your name,” the droid said.

Rey tapped the pads of her fingers against the screen as she filled out the form. At the bottom of the page, she stopped.

_The selected parcel is abandoned and unoccupied. By clicking, I affirm that I am related to the previous legal occupants or owners by blood, marriage, or adoption decree._

Rey chewed her lip. That seemed partially true. She thought of Luke and Leia. Of Ben. Of the way Anakin had stood by a small patch of earth that held his mother.

At least she knew what was there.

She tapped to confirm.

“Please insert three credits for processing!” Rey jumped at the noise. The droid took the datapad from her hands. “An additional tax of twenty-four credits has been levied on this parcel. Please pay the full balance to complete the transfer!”

Rey fumbled in her bag to find her money pouch.

“Please pay the full balance to complete the transfer!” It was getting louder and somebody in line at the desk turned to look at her. Rey's palms started to sweat.

“Pleas—”

It stopped the instant Rey dropped the first coin into the deposit slot on the droid. She closed her eyes in relief as she continued to feed the rest of the coins in.

“Thank you!” the droid said as it glided away, rubberized wheels squeaking slightly on the stone floor.

Surely she would need to show some identification, at least. It couldn't be that simple. Even somewhere as lax as Tatooine.

But the droid was plugged into an interface terminal at the main desk.

Rey checked the kiosk.

 _Property Type: Residential/Agricultural (Moisture farm)  
_ _Status: Occupied and claimed  
_ _Annual Production: 0 gallons  
_ _Owner(s): Rey_

She hadn't expected it to feel so good.

* * *

As the speeder crested a dune on the outskirts of Anchorhead, Rey was rocked by a huge impact.

The vehicle ground to a halt. She leaped away from it, landing hard and spinning to get a count of the tall, masked attackers surrounding her. More appeared, rising from hidden dips in the shifting terrain, growling and bellowing.

One lifted a club-like weapon to strike her.

Rey's arm shot out. Flung him into the air as she ignited her lightsaber. A wordless, barking alarm call went out.

She crouched, giving the hilt a twirl.

Instantly, they pulled back and scattered, disappearing into the desert. Almost as quickly as they had arrived, they were gone.

Rey waited, sensing the terror that trailed them.

When it faded completely, she turned off the lightsaber and let out a shuddering breath. She'd gotten too comfortable, she realized. She'd let her guard down when she was exposed.

She knew better.

She circled the speeder, inspecting the side that had been hit. A strike to the other side might have detonated the fertilizer, setting fire to the canisters of oil. Rey felt sick.

As it was, the damage was bad but not irreparable. Only a few drips of steering fluid were on the ground beneath it. If she drove gently, she would make it back. Rey climbed in and headed to the homestead, keeping the speed low as the torn metal rattled.

* * *

“You had it under control.”

“How do you know?” she asked hotly, pacing in the sitting room. He sat in a low chair, eyes following her closely. Anything could have happened to her and he hadn't been there.

“Rey.” Ben's voice was patient.

She stopped. Of course he knew.

She deflated.

“I felt alone,” Rey said, remembering how, after the adrenaline wore off and she was back in the garage working on the speeder, she'd kept replaying the attack. How distracted she'd been. How instantaneously things had changed. How exhausting vigilance could be.

“When something like that happens, I feel it through the bond,” Ben said. “I also knew you would be fine.”

Rey slumped down on the large bed that she had left folded out.

“But if I needed you?”

“I'd be there,” he said. There was some kind of leashed fierceness in the way he said it that made her shiver. She believed him. She felt viscerally protected, like she was armored with something and could just now see it.

Rey plucked at the fringe of the new blanket. He walked over and sat, pulling off his boots before climbing onto the bed to sit cross-legged facing her. She wasn't sure that his shoes could get anything dirty, and they disappeared soon after he took them off, but she appreciated the thought. He found a different patch of fringe to pick at for a while.

“I liked the other night,” he said, his eyes trained on the blanket. It put her at ease.

“Me too.” She hadn't known how to bring it up and was thankful he'd done it.

“Sorry I left like that,” Ben said. “It was hard to concentrate.”

She watched him, remembering the way pleasure and surprise had washed over his face, how his body had tensed. She wanted to see it again.

“I've been practicing,” he went on.

Rey snorted.

“Not that part,” Ben said. “As much.” She couldn't tell if he was joking. “But the concentration.”

Deliberately, he stretched his fingers out to her. She felt doubtful as she extended her hand slowly to meet his. It reminded her of the rainy island and the fire-lit hut and she had the exact same uncertainty. Would her hand pass through? Would they be able to feel each other? Would he pull back?

Ben was more confident. He reached out and enveloped her hand in his, the blue glow blurring where they joined. Rey had expected his skin to feel cold, like he had been outside on a chilly night. Instead, he felt warm and surprisingly alive. Rey relaxed into his touch and the tactile comfort of it.

“Is it tingly or anything?” he asked curiously. Only now was there was a hint of nervousness.

Rey shook her head and he looked relieved. It felt natural.

She intertwined her fingers with his, watching the way his thumb drew across her skin.

“I thought I would never do this again,” she said.

Ben pulled her into him on the bed, their bodies tangled by the unfamiliarity of moving together. She rubbed her cheek against his shirt and closed her eyes. _This_ was what she needed. His hand ran reassuringly along her back, firm and soothing. On her next deep breath, she realized that he didn't smell like anything. That bright, deep something that she'd caught hints of during close moments was gone. She felt a pang of sadness at the loss.

Ben tipped her chin up and leaned down to kiss her. Maybe slightly less solid, a bit more flickering at first, but there was no doubt that she was kissing him. His lips were the same as before, their temperature matching hers. But the pace of the kiss was different. Less gentle, more heat that built. He parted her lips with his, catching and tugging. She sighed happily into it, drew him closer. She doubted that he could ever be close enough.

Ben's hands guided her until she was on her back. Above her, he seemed huge, like he could completely swallow her up in blue-tinted light. Rey rested her hand on his arm, thrilled at the solidness of him, the pull of fabric as he shifted. Her tongue brushing over his lip, she let the kiss grow until it was ravaging. She wanted to be covered by him, needed him to understand that he made her want so much it almost hurt. He was hard against her and she brushed the thick weight of it through his clothes. With a groan, Ben broke the kiss to drop his head to the curve of her neck.

Rey fumbled with her belt as he dragged his shirt up. She stopped to learn what his back felt like—the angles of his shoulder blades moving while he helped her wriggle out of her pants. She kicked the pile of discarded fabric off the edge of the bed, hearing it crumple on the floor.

His gentle touch trailed over her throat, outlining the new tanlines along her shoulders like he was trying to memorize the smallest details of her. Rey searched his face, overcome by the awed way he was mapping her body. His hand roved smoothly, over her breasts as she arched, and he rested his palm on her stomach to feel the way her muscles moved underneath. Her thoughts were an incoherent stream of pleading and urging him lower.

His patience slipped, a flash that left him reaching around her to take a rough handful, squeezing hard. Ben rocked against her with a muffled noise, skirting her hips to grip her bare leg. To drag her thighs apart before self-restraint kicked in again. She spread, feeling exposed and fluttering, certain that he was going to be in her. She was dizzy with needing to know how he did it, how he'd use his fingers.

Ben's hand was warm and calloused, and he slid it slowly up from her knee to touch her where she was wet. Rey gave a closed-mouth moan, immediately fed at the feeling of him. The shock of it snapped through her but he was so achingly steady.

Her breathing was ragged as he barely dipped his fingers into her before gliding them up to her clit, circling with tormenting slowness, and she moved the bottom of her foot against the bed to press desperately up into his touch. There was an electric and pin-point pleasure everywhere he was and she wanted to be filled, to have the building orgasm rubbed out of her until it was all over his hand.

Maybe he could sense it because he was pushing in a little more, letting her body grip his thick fingers. Slight friction and confounding fullness, and she suddenly wanted so much that she couldn't think. His mouth was on hers again, hungry and hard. He let her work herself down onto him with her own speed until she was sweating. It was like he was listening to words before she could even start to form them, just following the rolling of her hips and the surging need.

He pulled his hand away and forked his fingers on either side of her clit, so far at the base that she almost readjusted his placement but he was clamping and rolling and pulling in a way that felt like it was in the center of her body. Her breathing was only more begging. It had to keep going, just like that. She had a floating thought that they must look absurd, that somebody watching would see only her, exposed and slipping fast, but she pushed it away. She was too greedy to feel self-conscious, especially when what he was doing was making her collapse in on herself like a spring being loaded.

His mouth was on her neck, her shoulder, her chest, his tongue hot at her skin while he shifted to get his pants open. Next to her, the bed moved as he pressed against it, grinding. Ben made a quiet, hitched noise that got caught somewhere deep and stayed.

If she had been able to talk, she would have told him that he was going to make her. Not make her come, but that too. But that he was going to break her down completely and then rebuild her with his hands on the bed. That whatever of her washed away wasn't worth keeping.

He was whispering encouragement into her ear, that he wanted her to do it, that he wanted to feel her. That her sounds were getting him close.

In her last hazy urge, Rey had to see him. She pulled him up to her and held him there. Their eyes met and she was all hollow tightness and twisting muscle. The orgasm spun together and she was tethered to his touch, floating in the anchor of his hand. Her gasps were huge gulps of air.

When she was done, she let him go and he dropped onto his back next to her. His wet fingers were in his mouth so he could taste her while he fucked his hand. Tensed shoulders, his eyes unfocused and distant as they locked onto the ceiling, and she watched his orgasm crash down over him. The color of him lightened as he rode it out, but he stayed. His come was shining on his chest and stomach and hand as he gave a final shudder.

Ben looked over at her with an exhausted smile.

“I did it,” he said.

Rey laughed and kissed him firmly.

“You did,” she agreed, although she wasn't sure they were talking about the same thing.


	6. More

About to take another bite of her dinner, Rey paused.

Ben was sitting next to her, elbow propped on the table as he watched her. His expression was a content almost-smile, like she was a perfect day that he'd only dreamed of. A balmy breeze, a good song, a long drink of needed water.

She'd recently repainted the walls of the dining room and the sharp, mineral smell of the pigments she'd used still lingered.

Rey put her spoon down. Ben seemed to snap back to reality, strange as it was. The dim glow of him moved as he straightened.

“Please don't stare at me while I eat,” she said.

“Yeah, I just realized I was doing that. Sorry.”

“It's alright,” she said, softening. “Do you want some?”

Rey dipped her finger into the sweet, clear syrup in the bottom of the bowl.

“It's from a ration pack, but it's really good.” She had a few favorites. This one was several small pillowy, cube-shaped cakes that were vaguely purple and soaked with syrup. It was meant for breakfast, but Rey preferred it at night. Her obvious enjoyment of different ration packs was a common punchline among her friends, but it paid off when somebody took a bite of their food and grimaced before silently offering the rest of their portion to her, shaking their head in disgust as she scarfed it down. Rey always kept a few bags of snacks on hand that others had deemed inoffensive so she could trade. She'd gnaw away happily, ripping off chunks of tough, dried, mysterious bricks of food while they crunched on bland crackers.

“I'm going to cook for you,” Ben said as he leaned in and opened his mouth.

“I can cook,” Rey said, prickling, as she brought her outstretched finger over to him. His lips closed around it. The thought of him in a kitchen came naturally. So naturally, in fact, that Rey wondered if it was possible that the flash of an image was bleeding over from him.

She could feel his tongue moving smoothly against her fingertip and the sensation was surprisingly silky. It made something quiver through her and warm her face. When his lips parted enough that she could see the sheen of his tongue, the shaky thing in her settled between her legs. He made an appraising noise and it turned into a gentle buzz by the time it reached her. She withdrew her hand slowly.

“It's good,” Ben said. His eyes went to her mouth.

She didn't need a pretense, she decided. Not when she was already throbbing just from being near him. Rey took Ben's hand and rested two of his fingers on her tongue, wondering if he remembered that a few days ago, they had been inside of her. The way he was watching her lips work around him made her think that he did. Through the bond, as different as it was now, she could feel him remembering, caught a simmering anticipation. She sucked on his fingers and, in his chair, he shifted, tilting his hips up and spreading his legs wider to make room for the way he was hardening. Ben's hand moved, thrusting his fingers slightly between her lips. She sucked again and he responded with bigger movements in her mouth, his free hand gripping and pulling at the outline of his cock with the same rhythm.

And she craved it, took him deeper, almost up to his knuckles. Fingertips bumped against the walls of her throat and she breathed through the urge to gag. Shallower thrusts, and when he parted his fingers, her tongue worked between them, sliding.

Ben couldn't match the pace anymore, struggling to open his pants with one hand, and after he got it, moving faster and harder than she'd seen. She let him swirl his fingers, touching her teeth and the soft inside of her. His eyebrows drew together, his own lips parted, like he was holding something good in.

_Close._

He was getting there but Rey wanted to do it, wanted to feel him come apart in her mouth, so she pulled off.

Pushing his chair back, he stood, watched while he coated himself with her, smearing it onto his cock with rough passes. Rey kneeled, transfixed by the practiced way he worked his hand in front of her. She held the base of him, replacing his touch with hers, and before she could wonder if she should ease in, if it would be too much, Rey was running the head of his cock between her lips and pushing it into her mouth, gliding across her tongue. It wasn't slow.

His groan was exhale-long, a sinking that sounded like surrender. Her body tightened. She wanted his fingers on her again, rubbing; wanted to hear all of the jagged noises she was going to drag out of him soon.

Rey ran her tongue over him, then kept it flat against the underside of his cock. She tried to swallow around the size of him but got stuck halfway, the reflex suddenly taking too much concentration. Spit dripped from the corner of her mouth instead as she looked up at him, hoping he could feel that she loved the way he was stretching her mouth.

He set his jaw, the flash of a snarl curling his lip as he looked down at her. And for the quickest moment, she remembered who he had been and it crackled through her.

She kept him in her mouth, drenching.

Rey had wondered if he'd wanted her back then, when they fought. As Ben held the back of her head, with only the weight of his hand, she knew with a sudden certainty that he had. That it had been private and dark and complicated, like it had been for her. And now he was inside of her, after it all. She took him in so deep that she couldn't breathe around him, felt like she was locking him into her. Then a little deeper. He made a low sound as his fingers knotted in her hair, tightening until he pulled his hands away, letting them hang in the air next to her, like he was afraid of what he'd do if he kept them on her. Another second of stillness, her nose almost brushing. Ben pulled the bottom of his shirt up so he could see how far he was in her, how close she was to taking all of him. Choking. He tensed between her lips and under her hands at the feeling, her throat flexing.

A shattered, guttural moan from him and she never wanted to stop. But she had to breathe. She coughed thickly around him before moving back for easier, faster thrusts, using her mouth and hand to fuck him.

“That's—” He couldn't say it. Couldn't get to the words. But she felt it. That what she was doing was going to rip him apart.

Rey nodded. It was all she wanted. She needed him to empty into her, pumping hard, and leave it behind when he slid out of her mouth. She dug her fingers into his leg and dragged him closer, keeping a rhythm and bringing him right up to it. He made a sound that slithered up her spine when it was inevitable, when nothing could stop him, even if he pulled out of her. She opened her lips, moved her tongue so he could see where his come was going to go. His body stiffened and he was there, shuddering with every pulse, the streams of it warm and flooding, hitting the back of her throat, drops landing on her tongue.

When he slackened, she let him go.

Ben caught her chin in his hand, a gentle grip to get her attention more than to hold her there.

“Can I see?”

She tilted her head back, letting her tongue slip in the fluid. She felt claimed, somehow. Loosely held and she liked it. Ben stroked her cheek, dipped his thumb between her parted lips before tracing her mouth.

“You're beautiful.”

Rey lifted her head quickly so she wouldn't choke as she laughed. Her lips felt puffy, her hair was a tangled mess, and she was in the process of swallowing his come. She didn't feel particularly pretty, but he'd sounded very sure.

“Was it blue?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

Ben nodded.

Rey stuck her tongue out as far as she could and tried to peer down at it. His come hadn't tasted like anything and she supposed that it would disappear on its own even if she hadn't swallowed it. Everything looked normal.

“It glows?”

“Yeah,” Ben said with a laugh, a hint of embarrassment as he buttoned his pants. Like he was thinking about how different he was now.

“Do you think this is okay?” Rey asked. “What we're doing?” She had been turning it over in her mind for a few days. If it wasn't supposed to happen, she reasoned, it wouldn't work. Or she would feel guilty or dirty or some other way that she didn't.

He stopped, studying her placidly, his expression open.

“What do you think?” Not avoiding her question, but answering it with the only thing that mattered to him. In it, everything she could say was good. Any answer she gave was complete and perfect.

Rey spoke before she could hedge her words. Before overthinking could cloud her response.

“I like it,” she said. “It feels natural.”

His untroubled expression didn't change.

“To me too,” Ben said.

She felt a rush. New confidence. Affection. Desire. The fresh memory of him shaking under her touch as he came.

“Next time, I want to see it,” she said. “On me.”

There was heat in the way Ben was looking at her now.

He nodded.

Rey knew that, whatever they were, she had a choice. That if she wanted this strange thing to stop, it would. If she wanted to live a normal life, she could.

Rey watched Ben reach over to take another fingerful of syrup from the bowl.

She knew.

She wanted nothing but next times.

* * *

Rey leaned down to get a better look.

In the trays, tiny green spindles poked out from the mesh. Many of the seeds had sprouted, their roots a mass of fine, vigorous threads.

Excitement skipped in her chest.

From parts in the workshop, Rey had cobbled together an updated control system that closely tracked the hydroponic chamber's different climate zones. Tabbing through several days of data, she could see that the timed cycles of light exposure she had set for the germination zone were on track.

On the cleared work table, she separated the vials of seeds that were viable. Rey marked one, full of tiny yellow specks. Another, thumb-sized and spiky pods. She compared them to the pallie seeds she had just bought. They could grow into stocky trees, branches heavy with fruit. Many of the names were completely new to her.

She'd spent a few evenings nodding off while researching optimal growing conditions and hydroponic system maintenance and it was boring but, as she inspected the first sets of leaves, the effort felt wholly worth it.

She held her hand above the tray, sensing the Force trickle through the seedlings. She wanted to take care of them. With effort and time, the once-forgotten chamber could become a garden again. She couldn't ignore how that made her remember.

* * *

Rey was at eye level with his outstretched arm.

He was watching her explore, amused.

Her fingertip bounced, just above his skin, like the air was more dense where the blue fuzzed out into the quiet room where they stood. His forearm was roped with tight muscle. Rey tapped and the pressure of it indented. She traced the ridge of a vein beneath his skin, a path that no longer flowed with blood.

Or did it?

“Do you have blood?”

“If I want to.”

She imagined concentrating enough to give herself blood. He had said that using the Force had changed. Maybe it was easier.

“Do you feel different?”

“Yes,” he said simply.

Rey wanted to try something.

“Can I look?” She pointed to her own head.

“I don't know if it'll work,” he said. “But you can.”

Rey shut her eyes and reached into him, trying to find his thoughts in the gleaming fog. It wasn't at all like before, she realized. The sharp, piercing corners she'd felt in his mind so long ago had unfolded to become something vast. She wondered if she wasn't meant to see this, but it called so peacefully, and Rey went further, following a strange kind of drifting.

There was the boundless hush of death, which she recognized, but also life like she'd never seen it. It was a sublime, sustaining vanquishment. An equilibrium. It was the Force, engulfing and beautiful. And it was him and he was all of it.

Without realizing it, tears rolled down her cheeks.

Ben kissed her forehead and Rey's eyes snapped open.

“What were you thinking about?” she whispered, unable to do anything louder.

“Nothing. I cleared my mind.”

She pulled back. It was like she could see him for the first time. The staggering reality of him being there. Of him dying and then standing in front of her.

“Teach me.”

“One day,” he promised. “When it's time.”

_Before she died again._

She wanted to ask. He was something else now. And he knew. When. How.

“I can't tell you that, Rey.”

She flushed with shame, suddenly tiny in her human nosiness.

“Sorry,” she said, dropping her gaze as she dried her cheeks.

“It's a natural question.”

Rey imagined herself, suffused with her own blue shimmering, running and jumping into his arms in a fierce hug that spun. She couldn't tell who the image was coming from, if it was coming from them at all. She only knew that it would happen.

In the room on the homestead on Tatooine, he wrapped his arms tightly around her, Rey's ear pressed to his silent chest. The only sounds in the sitting room were her breathing, her own pulse, and the whisper of his fingers in her loose hair. All things that he had given her.

But there was always more to want and their bodies were pressing together.

She pictured a much nearer future, her straddling him, helping him tug his shirt off over his head before pushing him back down onto the bed. Her easing herself down onto him, little by little, closed eyes and deep breaths, so she could stretch around him. The way he filled her, so close to too much. Her starting to move, his hands on her. She pictured him flipping her over and onto her back, staying inside of her. Long, slow, full thrusts as she melted underneath him.

He'd stopped moving.

“Rey.” Ben's voice was low, almost a warning. He was hard against her.

She took a step back, already taking her clothes off. He rushed to catch up, pausing to kiss her, nearly losing his balance as he kicked off his pants.

As soon as Rey was done, his mouth was on hers again, hungry, and he pushed her backwards towards a cushioned chair. She sank back into it, and he followed her down with another, harder kiss. There was only room for her on the seat; Ben was on his knees in front of her. Even that short distance was too far for her and Rey reached down to caress his arm. It was as though he was pausing to collect himself, to slow down what was happening. Take his time.

Ben wrapped his warm hands around her feet, massaging the arches. She let her head roll back in slackened bliss, giving a contented moan as he added more pressure. All of the bigness of their conversation was fading into the present moment. Slowly circling her ankles, he worked up her calves with sweeping strokes while her body softened. Ben pressed his lips to her knee, moving tentatively along the sensitive inside of her thigh. It sent spikes of hot need through her, gathering exactly where she craved it.

Rey lifted her head as she understood. His dark eyes were looking up at her.

She moved to the edge of the seat, spreading her legs wide. She was already nearly dripping, pulsing as he watched her. She didn't need this, she almost told him. He didn't have to. Ben said something against her skin, so softly that it couldn't have been for her to hear.

Then his hands braced her thighs and his mouth was on her.

The sensation was shocking—so much wetness and control and dissolving heat where she'd never felt his mouth. Ben's lips and tongue teased her apart, slipping and scooping, his nose bumping. Her eyes floated shut. She did need this—him kneeling, working her, no breaks to catch his breath. On the arms of the chair, Rey's fingers curled.

He sucked carefully, then released, swirling. All she wanted to do was listen to the sound of it, every shift of his tongue bringing her a step closer. An urgent craving. She said his name over and over, panting. Writhing underneath him and bucking into the flicking movement of his tongue. He latched on, pushing and coaxing, until she was shaking from her core, holding his head hard against her as she came into his mouth with whole-body gasping.

He groaned as he lapped her up, slowing and finishing with a final, pressed kiss.

Rey shivered with satisfaction as he sat back. She reached out to wipe the shine from his bottom lip with her thumb, brushing the swell. His tongue darted out to lick her. Still breathless, she managed to huff out a laugh.

He grinned and ran the back of his hand across his mouth and nose to get the rest as he stood.

“Can you walk?” he asked.

Rey eyed his erection.

“Can you?”

“Barely,” he conceded. “But I can always float.”

“Please don't float.” Rey hauled herself out of the chair. Imagining him gliding across the floor was surprisingly unsettling.

“Too much?”

Rey's legs wobbled as she made her way over to join him on the bed. He watched her, still smiling.

“Yes.” She sat down hard, tucked her hair behind her ear.

His face was suddenly serious as he moved closer.

“I love you, Rey.”

All of it—the way they had found each other so many times, the way he wanted her—flooded the moment.

“Ben.” She brought her hand up to his cheek, the slightest prickle of stubble scratching across her fingertips. “I love you too.”

The kiss was languid at first, all gentle exploration and simple touches until Rey realized that she could taste herself on him and the kiss ignited. She dragged her short nails over his shoulders, leaving marks on his skin; Ben groaned at the sting of it. When she pushed into him, he rolled onto his back, bringing her with him and it felt like all of the winning with none of the fighting. Rey straddled him, her mouth leaving his to trail her lips over his neck, following the line of it with her scraping teeth and slippery tongue. She imagined that she could smell his clean-salt sweat.

Ben touched the length of her spine, gripped her legs, holding her to him. She swiveled her hips until his cock was pressing warm against her, spreading. Rounded and smooth, smearing and pushing. Even this was enough, she thought. This was enough to get her off. She could angle her hips, wriggle to feel the nudging way he was just barely in her. It was probably enough for him too, she realized, because his fingers pressed into the softness of her hips, helped her grind. The quiet, honed sound he made was familiar to her now. Different from the slow, relaxed beginning, this was the groan that meant something was really setting in.

She'd been ready before. Now she was feverish with it. But the drumming urge, as vital as it was, had a kind of clarity. She wanted to know every imperceptible shift, every increment of how they connected like this. Rey reached down to grip him, to hold steady while she began to lower herself with agonizing slowness, lifting herself up slightly before each sinking. His eyes closed, like he was already lost and watching her work herself down onto him for the first time would break him before they really started.

Beside him, Ben's hands fisted in the sheets. She would remember this, she knew. The way she had set the pace of it, controlled the depth of the first stretching push as he stilled completely beneath her. The sense of privacy—his eyes shut. Rey was a voyeur, watching his face while she took him. She could feel her body opening, uncoiling. He was far from the first thing she'd had inside of her, but the patience felt good. Seeing the way his lips parted to take a deep breath he didn't need but wanted anyway felt even better.

So much of him was in her. Her fingers skimmed over his shaft, touched where they met, where she was pulled tight around him. Where the hardness of him sank into the softness of her. He fit like he could overflow her, and Rey had always known it would be like that. Had thought of it when she shouldn't have, when it was traitorous and profanely tempting.

She started to move, let her fingers make firm circles over her clit; Ben lifted his head to watch where he was disappearing into her. His cock felt like something she could throw herself down onto, a thrashing plunge, as rough as she wanted. She gave it a try, dropped and rocked her hips hard against him. Ben swore—first loud, then a repeated groaning encouragement that made her take more, faster. His head tipped back, throat completely exposed. She wanted to taste the way he was straining, to feel how he had to have her. Rey wanted that for herself—to be under him. It hummed through her.

He flipped her effortlessly, the same concentrated physicality, the explosive strength he'd always had. She felt small and once he got her on her back, he dug in, taking the steady rhythm he needed. Her hands on his chest, his shoulders. Her dragging touch on his back, feeling the way his whole body was working to keep him moving in her, like the raw, fitted tightness of her was the only thing that existed.

Rey pushed it over to him. The way he was stretching her each time he dipped in, her wetness coating him. How he drove so deep that she could feel it in her abdomen. That, somehow, she wanted more, wanted to break around him and be split into pieces and to swallow him whole.

“Can you feel it?” she asked, breathless words between his thrusts.

Ben looked perfectly ruined as he nodded, hair falling into his face as he squeezed his eyes shut hard. She loved him, but she wasn't thinking about that now. She was thinking about how, in this one way, it felt like she could destroy him, leave him totally unguarded and vulnerable. And he loved it. Wanted to do it to her, too.

He pulled out, kept the shaft of his cock slipping over her, between the two of them, a grinding pressure on her clit. His eyes stayed closed until he'd gotten it under control, stilling as he clamped down on the orgasm enough to hold it off. Only a rivulet of come escaped, torturous but leaving him full. Rey watched the struggle of it, knew that he wanted it drawn out, to save it. Like coming was so delicious that he only let himself take a small bite and kept the rest for later.

The control of it, the self-torturing pleasure on his face made something in her snap. She needed what he wasn't letting himself have yet. She replaced his cock with her fingers, plunging in with fast, shallow thrusts. When Ben saw what she was doing, his mouth was on hers, smoldering and consuming. An easy movement, and he'd swung her leg around so that he was lying beside her. His hand went between her legs. Rey remembered the way his fingers could fill her, bigger than her own, and she let him take over.

Ben slid in with little resistance from her body, just loaded bluntness and yielding warmth.

Her thoughts were a constant refrain.

 _More more more more._ A horrible need to be completely emptied by him, a stripped longing.

He didn't cram, didn't use his fingers like his cock. It was a lifting up and dropping, the movement tensing his arm and shoulders, kept his wrist locked. The motion pushed his fingers hard against some place in her that couldn't get enough. She felt helpless, liquefying. Her mouth was open to moan but she was silent and he was transfixed. She kicked and then locked up.

She could only hear the impossibly wet sounds of his fingers in her. It wasn't building as much as it felt like a constant orgasm that he was pumping out of her, that would only stop when he did.

And he was faltering.

Just from watching her, from listening to the way she was getting used up and rushing onto his skin. And Rey saw it—the moment when he needed what he'd held back before, when he had to have it. His hand that went to his cock worked fast as he positioned himself between her legs again.

“You want this on you?” His voice was rough.

More than anything. She rubbed her clit above where he had stretched her, her orgasm that he had let trail off building into another peak. Nodded.

Instantly, he was coming. Like it was on command. He was trying to keep his eyes open to watch how it shot onto her stomach and spread thighs and moving fingers, how it dripped down and he moved close so he could fuck it into her with quick, final thrusts that slowed.

She was streaked with his come, all tinted shining where it pooled. Rey pressed harder, her fingers faster. Didn't want it to fade before she was done, before he pulled out of her. And there was the last of the orgasm, a quick burst that made her contract around the sensitive head of his cock. He shivered at the overstimulation but didn't move away, watching how she rode it out. When it was over, she pushed off of him, numb from the friction and damp with sweat. Satiated and exhausted, Rey felt like she was fixed to the bed, her thoughts perfectly quiet for long moments before they floated back.

Ben stretched beside her, wiggled his toes a little. He looked content and something about it struck her. That she'd wanted to see him just like that since before she had even met him. Safe and free and next to her.

She couldn't take much credit for it, she knew. He had done it. A convoluted path, full of false starts and dead ends, but there it was. He'd saved himself just as much as he'd saved her.

Ben traced the bridge of her nose with a delicate touch. Rey could feel strange tears prickling in her eyes.

“Is it a bad time to thank you?”

“For that?” He pointed down between them.

“No,” Rey said with a laugh. “But that too. I meant for...” she trailed off, not sure how to say it. Rey didn't know the exact details about what had happened on Exegol; even now an obscured and painful memory, but she knew enough. That it had been a gradual, interrupted leaving. And when she came back, he was there. She couldn't decide on what words to use so she put her hand flat against her chest, letting her heartbeat thump beneath her palm and took a deliberate, significant breath.

Ben's eyes got wide.

“Oh.”

He covered her hand with his, watching the intertwining of their fingers.

“That's not something you need to thank me for.”

“But—”

“Rey. Every time.” He turned to her and looked so deep into her eyes that it was like there was something past them. “Any time. I would do it again. Constantly. Always.”

And Rey knew, more sure than she'd ever been in her entire life, that it was true. And that she would do the same for him.

She curled into him, adrift in an ocean of love.


	7. Full

“A whole bunch of sitting around talking,” Poe said over the communication transmitter. Rey had moved it from the dining room so she could talk to her friends while she relaxed with Ben. “They've got a lot of work to do. General idea right now is planetary independence feeding into balanced confederations, you know, each with a few planets for resources, couple big cities, whatever. Each confederation selecting a capitol, and the governmental seat moving between them, doing the capitol rotation thing again. Something like that. I don't know. They're still working out the details.”

Ben rubbed the leg Rey had draped over his lap as he considered that.

“Not bad,” Ben said. “Mom would like that a lot. She's not a big proponent of the whole strong, centralized thing.”

Rey gave him a look.

“Obviously,” Ben finished.

Rey reached over to push the button to respond.

“Have they talked about enforcing a sentient trafficking and slavery ban?”

Ben gave her thigh a reassuring squeeze.

“Yeah, that's a huge one,” Poe confirmed. “But at this rate, Rose will have that under control in about a week.”

They could hear Rose's snickering in the background.

“Rey, have you thought about where you're going to set up a Jedi-ish...place...thing?” Finn asked.

“A little,” Rey replied. “Been reading, Finn?”

“He reads them all the time!” Rose answered for him.

“Good.”

“Ready to come to Coruscant?” Poe asked.

Rey's index finger hovered above the button. Just a few days left. Paradoxically, it felt both too abrupt and like she'd been on Tatooine for years. Like she'd lived an entire lifetime in short weeks. She glanced back at Ben and was hit by a thought. She was different, Rey realized. Somehow. Something had changed.

“You still there?”

Rey turned back to the transmitter. Brought her finger down.

“Yes. Sorry.” She grinned at the thought of seeing her friends. Of talking to them in long stretches, free of war-clouded worry. “I'm ready.”

Cheering. She chewed her thumbnail, smile broadening.

Another comforting squeeze from Ben. If he could pick up on her conflicted feelings, he gave no indication.

* * *

She finished chopping a pile of herbs and turned to Ben.

“Add these now?”

“Yeah.” He didn't look up from the liquid he was measuring.

Rey dumped a handful of the leaves into a steaming pot, flicking to get the dark green flecks off of her skin. A few of the plant varieties that had sprouted in the hydroponic garden had grown explosively. For the first time in her life, she'd found herself with a lot of food and no idea how to eat it.

Finally, Rey had taken Ben up on his offer to cook, but only under the condition that he teach her.

She'd bumped into him a few times in the narrow galley kitchen before she found a pattern of checking over her shoulder before whipping around. He was so quiet that it was difficult to guess where he was.

Even in the unfamiliar kitchen, Ben had a steady competence, a fluidity and ease that clearly came from years of experience. If the skill had been taught by a parent, Rey was certain that it was Han.

She gave up on trying to get the last bits of herbs into the sauce and wiped her damp hands on the front of her robe.

“And now we wait,” Ben said, taking a pinch of bright red strands that he had grated. He popped them into this mouth and faced her, still chewing. He crossed his arms, leaned against the counter.

“How long?” Rey asked, trying to sneak a furtive glance at the way his boots flexed around his calves.

Ben shrugged. “'Till it's done.”

Very helpful.

And now he was staring. Of course.

“What?” she asked.

“I like the robe. A lot.”

She glanced down at the drab, uneven weave.

“You look like a Jedi,” he said.

“Thanks. So do you.”

He laughed. She wanted to swim in the sound.

“But I think Jedi robes have more under them,” finished Rey, looking up at him as she tugged the wide, loose hood over her head. “Traditionally.”

Ben stopped laughing but something stayed in his eyes as he moved closer, the heat of it making her body respond.

“I don't know,” he said, sounding serious. “I'd have to see.”

It was hard to breathe. The way he was advancing, he seemed to fill the kitchen. She clamped her legs together and shifted, trying to get some relief for the pressure that had started to pulsate.

Slow and deliberate, he took the spoon from her hands and set it down noiselessly.

“And not tied.” Rey's voice wavered. She reached for her belt.

Ben shook his head, backing her up to the rounded edge of the counter.

“Not usually.”

His hand wound its way through the soft cloth of her open robe to find skin as she clumsily moved a bowl aside behind her. The kitchen smelled mouth-watering, a simmering balance of freshness and spice. He reached down to wrap an arm around her waist and lifted her onto the glossy white counter. As soon as she landed, he caught the edges of the robe's hood, pulling her into a fierce, urgent kiss. The only taste a faint lingering sweetness from what he'd eaten. Everything was happening so quickly and it still wasn't fast enough. She realized that, in that moment, she would let him take her any way he wanted. Aching for it, Rey slid herself closer to the counter's edge.

She watched Ben adjust his clothes between them and suddenly he sank into her with one smooth movement. She gasped and clawed her fingers into his back, craving hurried roughness. Rey knew he needed it too because he was squeezing her hard and pulling her onto him like he had forgotten everything else and she was just a dripping warmth he was fucking himself with.

She had to have him like that. The angle was making him collide into her perfectly and she was using him too. His cock was thick and relentless and hard and for her, and that was all that mattered. Her legs locked around him to keep him in deep and she wanted to say something but she was already coming in hot waves around him with lung-filling breaths. Feeling it, Ben gritted his teeth, his thrusts faster and keeping her going. Slamming into her, his legs buckled and she knew he was there. His whole body moved with each pump until he stilled after a final shudder.

Rey slumped against him.

He pushed the hood of her robe back. Kissed her, lazily trailing his lips to her ear.

He wasn't breathing at all and she felt strangely self-conscious as she tried to catch her breath in the small kitchen, the only other sound besides the bubbling pot. Still inside of her, Ben reached far over to stir it. She managed not to laugh.

He studied the way the sauce dripped off of the spoon when he tapped it on the rim. Assessment done, he hauled Rey off of the counter and gave her a little bounce before letting her slide off of him.

“Perfect timing,” Ben said.

“Imagine that.”

She was secretly glad he didn't need to eat so she could have as much as she wanted. But some changes still gave her a fleeting pang when she thought about them.

“Please breathe,” she said, turning to run her hands over his chest.

Ben panted, bracing himself against the counter like he had just been sprinting. This time, she did laugh.

* * *

He climbed into the bed first, naked, his wide frame jammed in the alcove as he lifted the corner of the blankets for her. Rey got in after him and pulled the sheets up to cover her bare skin. Her room cooled at night, a natural fluctuation that she liked more than the artificially maintained consistency the homestead's temperature control system seemed designed for. If it dipped too low, of course, the system would kick in, but the dense walls and soft fabrics kept it pleasant. Rey adjusted her position and when she was cozy, Ben scrunched himself around her, pressing his chest against her back and tucking his knees behind hers.

The comfort of it crashed into the newness, and sent Rey's thoughts whirring in unusual directions. How could she explain to anybody how she'd gotten here, with him? She liked it, but it hardly made sense to her. The fighting had been so vicious, both of them desperate to get somewhere. How had he ended up snuggled against her in a bed?

Ben let his arm drape heavily over her and made a contented sound.

If she framed it in a particular way—an awareness within the Force, that decided to be with he—it somehow made more sense. Far more sense than sharing her bed with someone that her friends only knew by a different name.

Ben hesitated, like he was trying to find the most delicate way to phrase something.

“Rey, you know you don't have to worry about money, right?”

He said it so lightly that it took a bit for the words to sink in.

She didn't know that and, frankly, hadn't given it much consideration. Based on her calculations, a regular harvest of water would be enough to live on, albeit a bit sparsely. But that wouldn't be difficult for her. And she could always do repairs or scavenge if she needed to, no matter where she was.

“You could live anywhere,” he went on, tone still casual and matter-of-fact. Like he was commenting on the weather. “There are accounts and caches on different planets. Things that won't lose value and can't be seized.”

Her thoughts were roiling.

“I don't want Kylo Ren's money,” Rey said, nearly spitting the words. It felt tainted, the remains of the First Order's war chest. Or—somehow even worse—gifts from his loving and hopeful parents, collected over the years. She was nauseated at the thought.

Ben sighed.

“If it can do any good, please use it,” he said softly. “You're the only person who could access it. You can give everything away if you want.”

Rey considered that.

There was a kind of justice in it. Already, the forming government was working to support children orphaned by the war, to give far-flung survivors and decimated villages a helping hand. It was a monumental task, a drop in an ocean. But it was a start. Rey wondered how many new scavengers were learning to survive in the burnt-out wreckage left behind. She remembered how confusing and isolating it was to be different and alone.

“I need to think about it,” Rey said.

“Okay.”

Ben curled tighter around her, folding her up in his light. Held her. She tried to put their conversation behind her, but kept returning to the notion that he was asking for her help. Healing was a peculiar process, she'd learned—rarely a clean, straight line, and more often a muddled slog. Rey tangled her feet between his.

“For someone so important, you're really small,” he told her. She could hear his grin.

“I'm not important,” Rey said, wriggling in Ben's grasp to loosen his hold. “And I'm not small.” She stretched her legs out.

“Well, to me you are.”

She didn't ask which he was referring to.

“Turn over,” she said, moving under the sheets to reverse their positions. He obliged.

Looking through him, Rey could just make out the place where the bed met the wall. She refocused on his back, brushed her fingertips over the broadness, touched the few freckles. Pressed her lips to his skin and kept them there for long minutes.

“Could you tell me a story?” Rey asked as she played with his hair, the dark strands slipping between her fingers.

“Real or not?”

“Not.”

He thought for a bit.

“Here's one. It's Chandrilan,” he said, like she would know what to expect.

The story was gently symbolic, pacifying in a mysterious way. Grass-covered hills. A shaded forest and a calm lake. A bird that ate a star.

It wasn't so much the story itself but the swaying cadence of his voice that did it, bringing back a long-quiet memory of safety and the heavy-limbed exhaustion of childhood. She felt like she was dreaming before she drifted off, a smooth transition that let a deep sleep take her.

Later, in the middle of the night, Rey tried to shift over but was blocked by something in her bed. Someone. Her eyes flew open.

Ben was still there. She had no idea how much time had passed.

He moved to give her more room. Ben seemed dreamily relaxed, like he'd been roused from a long meditation.

“You stayed,” Rey said, groggy but pleased.

“Mhmmm.”

She searched for his hand to hold and, when she found it, Rey fell asleep again.

By morning, he was gone.


	8. Built

_Leaving._

It was such a busy thing that there was no time to feel it.

She had used up most of the food. Tucked away the power droid in the workshop, locked all the vehicles, and closed every door. Rey couldn't bring herself to look at the plants she had grown. She'd paid for a few months' worth of power from Tosche Station, supplementing what the homestead produced if needed. Rey left only the essential systems running. If she didn't return, they would probably work until the generator bin was empty, the solar panels were buried by sand, and the credits ran out at the power station. She let the vaporators run. Maybe the next time her or somebody else stopped by, the harvest would be enough to fill the secondary cistern. She folded her blankets and packed them in her bag.

As she came out of the freshly-repainted entry dome, the seriousness of what she was doing hit her. Ben could follow her. This place couldn't. She tapped the security code into the panel at the door as the Falcon landed, air gusting from the exhaust against the sand.

She waved her arms in greeting.

It was surreal to be near it again.

“How does it look?” Poe swept a hand dramatically at the ship behind him as he disembarked. “Not a scratch on your baby.”

Rey grinned. It felt mechanical, like her emotions hadn't had a chance to catch up with her body.

“Not just mine,” she said. “But it's perfect.”

BB-8 was the first to get to her, rolling over and chirping happily about the trip from Coruscant.

“Oh, really? That _is_ fast.”

Finn ran, scooping Rey up in a big hug that lifted her off of her feet. It finally made things feel real again. Poe stood back, craning his neck to look into the courtyard.

“You did a lot of work,” he said earnestly, a few congratulatory thumps landing on Rey's back before he embraced her, his leather jacket creaking slightly. “Looks great.”

“Thank you.” It was wonderful to see them, to have her work acknowledged.

Rose sidled up to her, beaming.

“I have so many questions,” Rose admitted, giving Rey's hand a happy squeeze. “I can't wait to pick your brain about really boring technical stuff.”

“Wow, you smell amazing, Rose,” Rey said as they hugged. Mostly floral, the perfume was evocative but unusual enough that it didn't remind Rey of anything she could name.

Rose thanked her, a wistful look passing over her face as she brought her wrist up to her nose and inhaled.

“Got it in Canto Bight,” she explained. “A gift.” Rose blushed as Finn and Poe shared a look. Rey knew that there was a story there, but didn't want to put her on the spot.

“Plus Coruscant has running water,” Poe said, slinging Rey's pack over his shoulder.

“Mostly,” Rose amended. “And Rey probably does too.”

“You do?” Finn asked, interested.

“It's a moisture farm,” Rey pointed out, trying to give herself a surreptitious sniff as she followed them to the Falcon.

“You smell fine, Rey,” Rose said quietly. Rey knew to expect some teasing about spending time on a dusty planet in the middle of nowhere. But there was an irrational fear that her friends could somehow sense that she had changed. That she had been with someone they wouldn't approve of.

Impulsively, before she boarded, Rey bent down to rest the flat of her palm on the sand. She thought of the buried lightsabers, the graves, the lights glowing in the subterranean garden. She glanced back, watching heat waves distort the spires of the vaporators. The strange course of her life hadn't given her many chances to say goodbye and, now that she had one, she didn't know what to do with it. Her eyes stung with sharp tears. It was too soon at the end, her departure so sudden.

“Ready?” Poe called to her, his voice coming from the cockpit. The engines roared to life, louder than she remembered.

She straightened, brushing her hands together, and walked on.

Rey took a seat, amazed. The interior of the ship was cleaner and brighter than she'd ever seen it. The dejarik board gleamed. Missing wall panels had been replaced, cables neatly bound and tucked away. Metal polished, new cushions. It bordered on luxurious.

“Is this the same ship?” she asked seriously, disoriented.

“Figured it could use a little love,” Poe said as he gave the control yoke an affectionate tap. “Been through a lot. It's Chewie-approved.”

“This is...” Rey was unsure of a big-enough word.

“Everybody helped,” Poe said.

“But it was mostly Poe,” Finn added.

“You fixed the AG-2Gs!” Poe objected, “And Rose did the hyperdrive completely by herself.” Their conversation devolved into a running tally of who had done what.

As Poe prepared the Falcon for takeoff, still arguing with Finn, Rose turned to her excitedly.

“Best thing you found?” she asked.

_Ben._

“The workshop—speeder elevator, maintenance bay, full workbench. Untouched.”

Rose pretended to faint.

“It wasn't looted?” Poe asked, cutting in. The Falcon was airborne.

“Because it's _creepy_ ,” Finn said, sounding frustrated. “I keep telling you guys this.” He gestured to Rey. “Creepy stuff happened, didn't it? Doors open for no reason? Hear any banging sounds?”

Rey laughed and it must have been a little too light because Rose quirked an eyebrow. Nobody else seemed to notice.

“It's creepy,” Rey confirmed, dangling her hand so D-O could approach her timidly. “But I didn't mind.”

Finn leaned over in his seat to punch Poe's arm.

“I _told_ you!”

Poe waved it aside. “Help me make the jump.”

Finn moved with recently-practiced ease, sounding off control checks.

“What I've always wondered,” Poe asked as Tatooine vanished behind them, “is how do you get the water out of the tall things?”

* * *

When the Falcon dropped out of hyperspace, Rey took in view in front of her. The planet was dark as they approached, covered with glowing red patterns that looked like lava.

“Is it volcanic?” she asked. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Finn shake his head. “Where's the city?”

Poe reached up to flip a few buttons and switched to manual controls for landing.

“Rey, the whole thing's the city,” he said.

“ _What_?”

“I know,” said Rose, commiserating. “It's a lot.”

She'd never heard more of an understatement. Rey had no idea what to say.

* * *

Layers of people, streaming lights stretching into the sky, airspeeders rushing like rivers underneath them. Towering buildings seemed to grow out of the gloom that lay even deeper.

Finn was responding to an ID request over the cockpit's comlink by reading out a permit number.

“Where are we landing?” Rey asked when he was done, noticing that they were banking left, splitting off from air traffic leading to a docking bay.

“At our place,” said Poe.

“We don't own it,” Finn clarified. “It's for work.”

His tone was apologetic. Rey braced herself.

She felt minuscule, utterly absorbed by the torrent of life around her.

“Anything you could possibly want, in the whole galaxy... there's three of them here,” Poe said. “At least.”

Rey believed it.

“Does it ever rain?” she asked.

“Only when they want it to,” Finn explained. “The weather is controlled.”

Rey shivered. A strange bubble of a planet, all built and somehow living. It was certainly impressive, but something about that unnerved her.

They brought the Falcon down on a private landing pad, perched high on an enormous transparisteel skyscraper. Poe hopped out and went over to a control panel, with BB-8 and D-O trailing behind. Rey's head swiveled around as she tried to take in the not-quite contained chaos of the city around them.

The window-enclosed level blazed with light. C-3PO shuffled out to greet them, making excuses for the nonexistant state of disarray in the apartment. R2-D2 sped past him.

“He always forgets to tell Threepio to turn off the lights when we're gone,” Finn grumbled to Rey as they got out. She picked up her bag. The air outside was comfortably warm with a pleasant breeze.

“That's where you _live_?” Rey's voice was louder than she'd planned.

“The interim government provides housing for facilitators,” Rose explained while they walked, pausing while Rey hugged C-3PO and R2-D2. “We're close to the Senate Building.”

The apartment was sleek without being stuffy. Everything seemed to be either brilliantly shiny, or soft and velvety. The open room stretched on forever, with a top-of-the-line kitchen on one side and an inviting cluster of seating on the other. A dining space separated them.

“Here, I'll show you your room then give you the tour,” Finn said, waving her down a wide hallway with a lustrous floor.

He approached a blank section of wall and a door that blended in seamlessly slid open to reveal a cream-colored guest bedroom with a huge, floor-to-ceiling window.

“Here's you,” he said. “'Fresher's through that door. We didn't know how long you'd want to stay, but that's empty.” He pointed to an unobtrusive system of built-in cabinets that she hadn't noticed.

Rey put her pack down on a table, stunned.

A step spanned the length of the window, allowing her to climb up for a view uninterrupted by the low safety railing that encircled each level of the building.

“I, ah...” Finn sounded embarrassed. “I keep these in here.” He cracked the lid of a black cargo container in the far corner to show her the Jedi texts. “They feel like yours.”

“They're for everyone,” Rey said. “And thank you for taking care of them.” She paused, climbing down from the step, feeling waves of excited nervousness churning around him. She already knew but asked anyway. “Finn, do you have something to tell me?”

“Rey.” He gave a quick look over his shoulder to check if anybody else was listening. “I think I'm Force-sensitive,” he said said in a low voice.

“That's great!” Rey exclaimed, hugging him and hoping she sounded surprised. It didn't work.

“You knew.”

“Yes. And why are you being so sneaky about it?” She gave him an amiable swat on the arm.

“It just felt like... your thing.”

“Finn, how could the Force be _my_ thing?”

“Yeah, that does sound dumb when I say it out loud,” he acknowledged.

“Go on, then,” she said excitedly, taking a step back to give him space.

“You want me to move something?”

“Anything.”

Finn took a bracing breath and closed his eyes. He tentatively reached a hand out and fluttered his fingers slowly in the direction of a chair. Rey pressed her lips together so she wouldn't laugh. She knew that she looked silly when she did it sometimes, too. Especially at first. His face was twisting with concentration and a small pillow on the chair tipped over.

Rey erupted into applause.

He opened his eyes, relieved.

“Finn, that was perfect,” she said earnestly, feeling a rush of camaraderie. There was a new kind of solidarity between them. “Do you have any questions?”

“A million,” he admitted. “But I can't think of them right now. I wrote them down.” He patted the pockets of his jacket, searching. “Somewhere.”

“Ask me any time.”

Finn visibly relaxed.

“Thanks, Rey. Feels good to finally tell you.”

“We can practice more later, if you want.”

“Yeah, can we? I just want to make sure I'm doing it right.”

* * *

Rey sat, half-listening to Finn and Rose chat about a recent meeting in the Senate building.

“She keeps talking about 'an equitable allocation of funds' but then won't give any numbers when people ask,” Rose was saying.

“Probably just waiting for the grants to be approved,” Finn said.

Rey was distracted.

Had she remembered to double-lock the storage room? Would the security system be enough to deter a pack of womp rats? How were the plants? She caught herself tugging at her bottom lip.

“I'm starving,” Poe said as he walked into the room. “Going to order way too many noodles. Everybody interested?” He swept a hand at them but didn't wait for a response. “Great. I'll call it in.”

“That sounds amazing,” said Rey, pulling herself out of her nervous musings.

“The place we order from is the best,” Finn said reassuringly, as if Rey needed to be talked into it.

While they waited for the delivery, Rey asked about their work—a typical day, what they'd like to eventually do once things settled. How the new leadership was getting along. Finally, she brought up Canto Bight.

“What's it like?”

“Terrible,” Finn said without hesitating.

Rose wrinkled her nose.

“Yeah, it's bad. But there are people who want it to be better,” she said. “It's just a matter of connecting them with each other.”

The front door dinged and Poe intercepted the delivery droid before C-3PO could make his way across the room.

Piping hot containers of different broths, bowls of blue noodles, platters of thinly sliced meats and vegetables soon covered the table. Rey couldn't remember the last time she'd seen so much food at once. She sat down eagerly in the closest empty chair.

“Okay, Rey,” Poe said, holding out an arm to stop her. “There's a right way and a wrong way to do this. We'll show you.”

Strips of meat and colorful vegetables heaped over noodles, a dab of some kind of savory paste dotted with white specks, and steaming broth poured over it all.

Her first bite was a riot of flavor, new and vibrant.

She was smitten.

Rey shoveled a pile of noodles into her mouth, slurping while she reached for a bottle of sauce. She wanted to try everything. The strands that dangled dribbled warm broth back into her bowl, swinging a little as she gave the bottle a shake.

Poe stared.

“Somehow, that got worse,” he said.

Rey gulped the mouthful.

“Sorry.”

“Eating alone will do that,” Finn said in her defense as he gave his noodles a stir.

Rey nodded vigorously and took a drink of water, smudging sauce from her fingers on the elegant metal cup.

“Completely alone,” she said as she set it down, wiping her mouth.

* * *

Later that night after everyone had gone to their rooms, Rey found a guest robe and slippers in her closet. They matched the muted cream hue of the room, a soft almost-gold. Relieved to keep up her now-familiar nighttime rituals in a new place, Rey peeled off her shirt and pants, and untied her hair, sighing happily at the way it undid the tension of the day. She dimmed the lights and took a shower that felt lavishly long and inefficient, taking time afterward to dry her hair. Finally, she put on the silk robe, letting it drape over her skin in liquid folds. It was slightly too big for her but she felt like royalty.

Rey tried the slippers but ultimately decided she'd rather dig her toes into the plush carpet as she padded around, searching for something to read. She picked up a thin, black datapad from the nightstand. A guide to Coruscant. Maps, upcoming events, history. How to use the public transit system, contact emergency services, and fill out customs forms. Lists of restaurants, theaters, galleries, hotels, and nightlife divided by district. Rey started to skim the introduction. All of the lofty, pretentious descriptions she'd expected.

In the corner of her room, a blue fog coalesced. She didn't even wonder who it was, skipping right to the part where she felt excited and happy. The bond was a bit different lately—a linking that she sensed a few seconds before he appeared. Sometimes even when he was nowhere.

“You found me,” Rey said, delighted. She put the datapad down and went over to him for a quick kiss.

“Coruscant is really crowded,” Ben admitted, sounding frazzled. He stopped to study her, leaning back a little. “You look...”

She waited.

“... good,” he finished.

He shook his head slightly, like he was clearing a haze.

“The house is fine,” Ben continued.

Rey's eyebrows drew together in confusion.

“Luke's house?”

A laugh danced behind his eyes.

“Sure.”

“You can check on it,” she said slowly, thinking out loud. The possibilities were just starting to occur to her.

“Everything's exactly how you left it.” Ben planted his hands on her shoulders, the weight reassuring. She relaxed. It had been bothering her more than she'd really noticed—not just a distracted, idle wondering, but a background stress.

“The garden is growing.” His fingers worked her tight muscles, sliding easily over the robe. “Nobody has even gotten close. Droid's charging right now. The generator is running. Doors all locked.”

She traced his jawline as he spoke, his voice a perfect rumble.

“Thank you,” she said.

He was an oasis she could take with her anywhere, she realized. She brushed his fingers with reverent carefulness. The constant illumination of the city streamed in through the window behind him. Through him. Insulated from most of the noise of traffic, the room was peaceful.

She couldn't shake the feeling that they were supposed to be like this. Just like this.

“Was it harder to find me here?”

“Not harder,” Ben said. “Just different. It's busier.”

Rey turned to take in the view, climbing onto the step. Even this high up, the nighttime itself seemed remote, kept at bay by the city's millions of lights. There were too many inhabitants for the planet to ever really sleep.

Ben stood close behind and she could feel his eyes not on the city, but on her.

Rey wanted to ramble. To comment on the absurdity of having private landing pads hanging off the sides of residential buildings, maybe. Or the intuitive ingenuity of the shower's controls. Anything to get rid of the sly, salacious urges she was having in a shared apartment with her friends presumably sleeping in nearby rooms. Because, when he was against her like that, all she could think about was new ways to wrap around him.

When his hands moved, skimming down to follow her curves, Rey softened into him. His chest felt like a dense, massive wall that she could press into. He dragged his thumbs over her nipples, through the silk; the sensation was electric and her breath caught in her throat. Ben lowered his lips to the side of her neck, tasting her while she rolled against him.

Rey wanted courses of him. Wanted to see if she could have him while they were standing, or if he was just teasing her. Maybe he was enjoying getting her worked up and would stop, telling her that there were too many people around, that it was a bad idea.

But Ben pushed her robe up, hand sliding in the sleek fabric until she felt cool air rushing against her skin. An answer. Rey could hear the quiet rattling as he unfastened the front of his pants and let them hang open. And maybe it was a bad idea, but it felt vital. She bent over, bracing herself against the glass, thrumming with brazen anticipation. From behind, he reached between her legs, fingers swirling quickly and pressing, feeling how ready she was. He lined himself up behind her, the head of his cock rubbing and then pushing smoothly into her, a satisfied growl at how easily she took him.

She watched the flood of speeders outside. Nobody else could see him, Rey reasoned, and she was mostly clothed. Only the rhythmic way her body was moving would reveal what was happening. His fingers gathering her loose hair, holding it up off of her neck.

Rey bent even further so he could get in more. So he could look at anything he wanted. And she knew he was because Ben slowed, his hands dropping to her waist, her hips, pulling her apart. She wondered if he knew that she loved the way he was spreading her, that she secretly liked that anybody could see her if they happened to glance up at a particular window on a huge skyscraper. If he knew that when he was in her, it felt like they were both made of the exact same thing.

“Yeah.” He answered her unspoken questions. Hearing him speak, responding, while she gripped him filled some wild part of her. She was suddenly voracious.

Her thighs shook, but the way he was thrusting into her kept her standing. Rey pressed harder against the window, feeling it squeak under her skin. She tried to be silent but the sound that came out was urgent and needy.

Letting go of her hair, Ben's hand came forward to cover her mouth, firm but gentle and she knew he was right. She had to be quiet, but he was pumping with long, full strokes, his other hand working her clit. She moaned into his palm, clenching around him.

He groaned loudly in response and picked up speed. After a moment of panic, she remembered that only her sounds needed to be stifled. Ben's legs behind hers, all solidness and muscle. His hips snapping up to meet her, the momentum of it jerking her entire body. The sash of the robe had come undone and she was barely covered, her breasts bouncing in the shadowed folds of the silk as she drove herself back onto his cock.

Rey felt herself drooling into his palm as he leaned down over her. Did he know that he was going to make her come so hard that she could scream, but his hand was going to hold it in her?

“Yeah,” he breathed against her back.

Her body stiffened under him.

Rey wanted him to stay in her head this time, feeling exactly how he made her come apart. And she needed him to know that there was some kind of forbidden, twisted ownership, some birthright, that she felt when she looked out at Coruscant with him behind her. She wanted him to slam into her harder and grind his fingers against her and to not let her fall.

He straightened and shoved her against the window, the surface cool against her bare breasts and the side of her face, his thrusting everything she needed, punishingly rough, his fingers merciless. His mouth was on her shoulder, biting. Rey fought to keep her eyes open, glassy as the city slipped out of focus. She struggled, tried to arch her back into him but she was locked in.

“You think that's yours, Rey?” His voice was harsh, unpitying. “You think that's your city?” He buried his cock in her to the hilt, the force of it almost lifting her off of the step.

The orgasm started from the middle of her, rippling out before it detonated. She shouted into his hand, nothing but the muffled sound seeping out from between his wet fingers.

When she crumpled, he held her up, wringing a few aftershocks from her with his own final, sharp strokes. He came completely silently, filling deep, emptying with each heavy pulse of it.

He slid out of her, planting kisses everywhere he could reach. Her head, her back, her arms. Ben spun her around and squeezed her tight to him, coming to a stillness as she caught her breath.

They didn't speak for a long time. She felt safe, like he'd wrapped her up and stayed with her in a place only they understood. A dark entitlement, an inherited right to power—monstrous but fleeting. A remembered echo of what they'd fought and defeated together.

“It's okay that you felt that,” Ben said. “You're strong.”

“I know.”

Slipperiness tickled down her inner thigh. Rey swiped at it, leaving a streak of muted, dully shining blue where they had mixed together. It was taking longer to fade away each time and she couldn't really explain why, but she liked it.

“I'm just going to go to the refresher,” said Rey, holding her hand between her legs so she wouldn't drip on the carpet.

She stopped in the doorway, the robe still flapping open, hanging off one shoulder. He was buttoning his pants. When he glanced up at her, he had to push his hair back from his face. It was so unselfconsciously inviting that Rey nearly went over to him for another round.

“Can you stay?” she asked. “Just a few minutes. I want to show you something.”

Ben's eyes swept over her.

“Okay.”

“It's not something like that.”

“Are you sure?”

“No,” she said honestly.

When Rey emerged from the refresher, Ben was looking pensively out the window, hands clasped behind his back. He smiled at her and she wondered if the flutter in her chest when he did that would ever go away. She doubted it.

Rey headed over to the cargo crate in the corner and he met her there.

“They're from Ahch-To,” she said, unlatching the clamps on the lid. Still unsure of exactly what Ben knew, and deciding it was better if she stayed that way, Rey often found herself explaining things to him unnecessarily because it felt normal.

This time, she resisted the urge.

“It's good that you have these,” he said, bending down to get a better look.

Ben traced the embossed spine of one, studying the exposed, age-darkened binding. He seemed lost in thought.

“Some of the things I collected,” he said, “were very old.”

As Rey pulled it from the protective padding, her curiosity was piqued. For some reason, she hadn't really considered that the he'd kept things more interesting than currency and aurodium. Maybe some Corusca gems or a few bottles of vintage Merenzane Gold, at most. Ben deftly inspected a page of the book, not reading it but letting the light of his hand diffuse through the yellowed parchment and throw the scratched-in ink into relief. The information written in the texts was, in all likelihood, of little interest to him now. But the objects themselves—the wood and leather and cording—seemed to fascinate him. She wondered what kinds of relics the son of a princess and a famous smuggler might have saved. Because whatever they were, ancient texts from the founding of the Jedi Order remind him of them.

And as deep as their bond was, Rey sensed that there was much more to learn about him.

“Where are they now?” she asked.

He nodded toward the window.

“A few are nearby.”

Something about the quiet way he said it made her shiver.

Noticing, Ben returned the book to the crate and took her hand between both of his, holding the living warmth of her in.

“You'll know when the time comes, Rey. Don't worry.”

He kissed her and it was all softness and solace. Rey rested her head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat.

_His heartbeat._

She pulled back; froze. Listened again. He was grinning.

“Did it work?”

Rey could only nod, too shocked to cry. She'd never had a chance to hear it when he was alive. A perfect, thumping rush. Lulling and constant. Long moments passed as she listened.

She closed her eyes, suddenly aware of how tired she was. How long he had been there, on a new planet. He would have to go soon.

“You can visit during the day,” she said. It sounded like she was giving him permission. Which, in a way, she was.

“I thought you didn't like how it looked.”

It was true that the difference in the sunlight had been jarring at first, but Rey found that she acclimated quickly. And she wanted to spend a morning in bed with him, tangling together before she had even started her day, marked by his touch for the rest of it.

“I like how _you_ look,” she said. Her words were almost slurred, loose with sleepiness.

Ben snorted. She stood on her tiptoes to press her lips to his cheek, her breath rushing over his skin. His arms were around her again, and he turned his head to catch her mouth with his. Deep and slow, their lips parted, tongues sliding.

They pulled apart reluctantly as he started to fade.

“See you in the morning, then,” he said.

She flopped happily onto the bed. Watching him leave wasn't so awful now, she decided. She always wanted more time with him but the ebb and flow of it felt natural.

Yawning, she climbed between the luxuriously soft sheets. She didn't even remember her head hitting the pillow.

* * *

“Was everything alright last night?” Finn asked at the breakfast table.

Rey was spreading a fruity, pale pink foam onto a chunk of bread. She fumbled with the knife and it clattered to her plate.

“What?” She crammed bread into her mouth. “Oh, yeah, fine.”

Poe narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously, chewing.

“I thought I heard...” Finn trailed off.

“Nope!” She finished her bite. “Normal, boring night.” Her voice seemed too loud. Even another Force user wouldn't be able to detect a ghost appearing only to another person. It must have been her. She remembered how Ben had covered her mouth. Or maybe it had just been her end of the conversation afterward.

“Sir,” interjected C-3PO. “I did detect a slight—”

“Threepio, sorry,” Rey interrupted, trying to make it seem like the thought had just occurred to her. “What's the weather supposed to be like today?”

“Sunny,” he said, delighted to answer a direct question. He shuffled to face her. “With an expected—”

“Whoa whoa whoa.” Poe held up his hand. “The weather's always the same.” He twirled a finger. “Go back.”

C-3PO looked between the two of them, debilitated by protocol.

Rey ran her fingers through her disheveled hair. She wanted to sink under the table.

“Sir, the security sensors detected a brief anomaly near the window of the guest suite last night.”

Rey's eyes widened. It hadn't even occurred to her to check for sensors. Poe leaned back, crossing his arms. Finn turned to look at Rey, agape.

“After running a diagnostic scan of the system,” C-3PO went on, “Artoo said that it appeared to be a simple glitch.”

Rey shrugged.

“See? Normal. Boring.”

BB-8 rolled over to Poe, practically wriggling with excitement as he started beeping. D-O hid in the corner by a chair.

“BB-8!” Rey hissed.

Rose curled up in her seat, tucking her legs beneath herself as she settled in. She wrapped her hands around a warm cup of caf, eyes twinkling.

* * *

“Did they show you the spa?” Rose asked Rey after breakfast. “It's downstairs. They always forget about it.”

“The spa?”

“It's not just ours. But nobody's ever in there.” Rose grabbed two metal bottles of water from a cooler in the kitchen and led the way. It sounded like a good place to hide for a while.

The unoccupied room was subtlety opulent, with carved columns and ambient light. Warm and spotlessly clean, it was scented by a complex wisp of fragrance. The center of the room was taken up by a deep pool. Steam rose from its surface in puffs.

“So, what would you like to see today?” Rose asked from the small dressing room. Rey had already rinsed off and changed into the provided clothes. She was tugging at the straps of the top half, checking in a mirror for any marks on her neck or shoulders. Nothing.

“I don't know where to start,” Rey confessed.

Rose opened the door and came out as Rey climbed gingerly into the warm water, slightly sore from the previous night.

If Rose noticed, she didn't say anything. She joined Rey.

“I read a little of the travel guide last night,” Rey said, swishing her arms under the surface. It had been a very long time since she'd been in so much water.

Rose waited, leaving room for Rey to share anything else she wanted to. And a part of Rey was tempted to tell her. Maybe Rose could relate to keeping a relationship private. But everything else about it was different. Besides, Rey thought, how would she announce that? Asking if Rose remembered Kylo Ren? No, that wasn't the right way. And it was too soon.

“Maybe the Federal District,” Rey finished.

“That's what I would recommend,” Rose said eagerly. She didn't seem disappointed in Rey's dodging. “The Senate buildings are really great. And we have off for a few days, so it won't be too busy. We can take the speeder.”

* * *

Their skylane broke through a canyon of buildings into an expansive, sprawling vista.

A strange, slope-sided building erupted from the city around it, spires pushing up even higher. It was colossal, dark and monolithic. Something about it made the tiny hairs on Rey's arms stand up.

“What's that?” she asked, pointing to it. The airspeeder's seats were nestled low, but Rey felt exposed without a roof.

“It's... ahhhh.” Finn stumbled over the words. “It's an administrative... building. And a museum,” Finn finished with strained nonchalance, like it was hard to describe such a boring place.

Rey made a noise of suspicion and leaned in to study his face. He kept squinting at the view, as if searching for something interesting to point out to her. She wasn't going to let it go that easily. He was sweating lightly.

“That's the Imperial Palace, isn't it?”

“Yeah,” he said instantly, sounding relieved. “Yeah, it totally is.”

“Used to be the Jedi Temple,” Poe added casually as he checked the speeder's gauges. “Built it over an old Sith shrine. Wanna go?”

“No,” Rey said flatly.

Everybody turned to look at her.

“Maybe next time,” she added, softer. The truth was that the building, as a whole, brought up about thirty questions she didn't want to answer for a while.

“Ooooookay, who wants drinks?” Poe offered brightly, changing the subject.

“Me,” said Rey.

* * *

They got back late from the nightclub, Rey's ears still ringing from the thumping music. After a few uncomfortable minutes of avoiding dancing, she'd sat down at their table with her fizzing drink, watching as her friends danced with each other, then with strangers. She'd felt alone in the crush of bodies, the smell of sweat and musk and liquor in the close air, and grateful to have an out-of-the-way spot to take in the scene. Rose had stopped by to check on her, nearly shouting so they could hear each other over the din.

“You good?” Rose had asked, having to repeat herself before Rey could make the words out.

“Yeah.”

They'd sat and watched Poe jump out of the way just in time to avoid somebody's spilled drink while Finn leaned down to talk to a woman sitting at the bar.

“They're a mess,” Rose had said affectionately.

She'd turned to look at Rey. “You miss somebody.”

Rey had imagined Ben, alive and with her. How he would have kept his hand on the small of her back, moving easily through the crowd to get to the bar and order drinks. How people might have thought he looked familiar, but laughed at their own overactive imaginations. How he would have found a secluded corner where he could kiss her until she was delirious with it and they had to slip away to get more privacy.

“Yeah,” Rey had admitted to Rose. “I do.”

“Me too.”

They'd sat in amiable silence, Rose swaying to the beat of the music, her shoulder sometimes bumping into Rey's.

Now they all were back at the apartment, only a few hours from sunrise. Finn and Poe headed straight for the kitchen to scrounge around for food, talking loudly as they recapped the night.

Rey followed Rose out onto the landing pad for some air. The incessant surge of airspeeders was punctuated by distant sirens.

“This place is amazing,” Rey said.

“Where we are is safe and has clean air,” Rose said as they leaned against the railing. “I just wish everyone here had that.”

“Maybe things are changing,” said Rey. She buffed her fingerprints off of the glossy metal rail with her sleeve.

“Maybe,” Rose said, smiling to herself. “We could always use your help, Rey.”

Rey looked down at the thousands of levels beneath them. The effect that a trillion people so close together had on her was hard to describe. The Force felt like a sea here, teeming and muddled and swirling. She missed the clear flow she felt in quiet places.

“You're going to stay there, aren't you?” Rose said it without judgment, like it was inevitable.

Rey looked over at her.

“I haven't decided.”

A pause.

“I watched how you left,” Rose told her. “Rey, it's okay to have a home for a while. It doesn't mean you're stuck.” She nodded to the apartment. “Those guys in there are never going to stop checking on you. I promise. And neither will I.”

Rey laughed, blinking back tears as Rose turned to her fully.

“We've all been through a lot,” Rose said softly. “And I don't think anybody but you knows the details and you don't have to tell anybody,” Rose paused while Rey wiped her eyes. “But you had your own war.”

Rey nodded, crying in earnest. It felt good to hear.

When Rose spoke again, her voice wavered with emotion.

“Whatever makes you happy after that,” Rose continued, “do it. _Wherever_ you're happy. With whoever. Because when we picked you up, Rey, you seemed like you were.”

Rey pulled her into a fierce hug. Rose sniffled.

“And if you want to meet up once a month here or Naboo or Kashyyyk or Chandrila for some non-stop eating and sightseeing,” Rose said as they ended the hug, “we'll make that happen.”

Rey had nothing but a bubbly, light feeling.


	9. Home

Rey flew the Falcon. There were a few changes she had to adjust to, like the extra kick from the upgraded hyperdrive.

Thrown back in her seat, barely hanging on to the control yoke, she looked over at Poe and Finn while they laughed.

“Is this _really_ necessary?”

“Yes,” Poe said.

“Definitely,” Finn agreed.

“We can adjust it,” Rose pointed out.

It was a freeing, heady feeling to fly again. The V-35 landspeeder and the Field Hover-Ute were practical and she was grateful to have them. But maybe she could repair the Skyhopper...

When they neared Tatooine, Rey slowed the Falcon and the mottled beige planet sprang into view.

“Home sweet home, huh Rey?” said Poe, with far less sarcasm than she had expected. He pointed to the new navigation screen by the controls. “I saved the coordinates.”

As she brought the Falcon down, something leaped in her chest. This was right. Whatever kind of strangeness it was, it was right. She felt snug when she looked out at the empty dunes, the distant horizon, and two suns.

“Can I see the workshop?” Rose asked.

“Yeah, please come in.”

BB-8 hurried ahead of them toward the entry dome.

“Don't—”

The alarm blared, cutting Rey off. Her security droid only added to the din.

“Intruders within the perimeter!”

BB-8 retreated to Poe, cowering behind his legs.

“Cancel alert,” Rey said. “It's me. Patrol Sector Two.”

“That thing is mean,” Poe said while they watched it roll away.

“Sorry.” Rey gave BB-8 an apologetic pat. “He still needs some work.”

She glanced down into the courtyard. Everything seemed fine. After entering the security code, she waved them in. The familiar smell of sun-baked pourstone and hot metal welcomed her.

The reinforced door to the vehicle pit hissed open; Poe and Rose went in. Finn meandered toward the living space instead.

“Can I look around?” he asked, apprehension tempered by his curiosity. “I won't touch anything.”

Rey waved him on.

“Make yourself at home.”

She'd been particularly meticulous before leaving, hiding any indication that she hadn't been alone. Still, the homestead was packed with her memories of Ben. Hopefully, Finn would only pick up on the layers of happiness she'd built up there.

“A T-16?” Poe's voice from the garage brought her back. He let out a low whistle. “Classic for a reason. Were you just going to keep that a secret? Ya know, Rey, I think I'm starting to see why you'd want to stay here. Nobody to bother you. Can take this out for a ride.” He inspected it a little more closely. “It's pretty banged up though.”

“I think it took some damage. I'll have to ask—” She stopped just in time. Saying that she needed to find out from Luke Skywalker what happened to his Skyhopper was not going to convince her friends that she was doing well. “—you for some advice, maybe. Later. If that's alright.”

“Yeah. And if you can't find a part, let me know. We'll get it.”

Rose poked her head out of the workshop.

“This is the best,” she said.

Rey wandered in. She hadn't been away from the homestead for long at all, but there was a calmness that she felt when she touched the workbench.

“I can't believe Luke Skywalker lived here,” Rose was saying as Rey switched on the droids. “I know it's ridiculous to say after... everything. But it all started here, didn't it?”

“I guess it did,” Rey said, considering that.

They were brought back to the present when they heard Finn shouting Rey's name. Rushing into the courtyard, they found him standing in front of the white slatted wall looking extremely unsettled.

“There's something alive in there.”

Poe and Rose recoiled while Rey laughed.

“I hope so. Plants. It's the garden.”

“ _Garden_?”

“Come see.”

The room was pleasantly humid, filled with the sound of water trickling through the system. The new batch of seedlings stretched toward the grow lights, the bigger plants were bushy and full again.

“Wow. Did not expect that,” Finn said.

Rose went over to the sand-filled tubs for the pallie trees. One tiny sapling stuck out of the soil, a thin stem with pointed leaves.

“This is cute,” she announced.

“It's a fruit tree,” Rey said. “Or... it will be. One day.”

“Can we bring you seeds?” Rose asked eagerly. “Legal,” she added when Finn and Poe started snickering.

“I'd love that.” Rey imagined the garden full of exotic, delicious plants from her and her friends' travels. “Anybody hungry?” she asked, thinking about the snacks she'd left in the kitchen. And all the ones she'd brought with her from Coruscant. And the tea she had been missing.

Soon they were sitting around the table in the dining room, giving Rey updates about far-flung acquaintances and debating the next planet she should visit.

“So, Finn, what do you think?” Poe asked eventually, reaching for more food and pointing out into the courtyard behind him. “Still spooky?”

Finn refilled his glass from the pitcher of tea.

“Actually, yes.”

Rey stood and went over to the entrance steps leading down into the courtyard. This had gone on long enough. She wanted him to be comfortable.

“Finn, it's not scary. Come sit with me.” Rey patted the step beside her. “Here, I'll show you.”

He joined her cautiously.

She sat up straight and let her eyes close. Next to her, Finn's wariness spiked and then leveled. Rey waited until she heard his breathing deepen.

“What do you feel?” she asked.

“Like something's right behind us. Like, _right_ behind us.”

Maybe it was in the homestead itself. Maybe it was memories of what they'd all seen and lost during the war. The alertness that only sometimes went away. In some ways, they would probably be haunted for a long time to come.

“And what's behind that?” Rey asked. She knew the answer, of course. It was always there.

Finn was concentrating.

“The Force.”

She smiled.

They sat together, meditating while Poe and Rose chatted at the table. She could faintly hear BB-8 and D-O beeping with the repair droid in the workshop.

“Rey, did something happen to you? On Exegol.” Finn's voice was hushed.

He must have felt when she was gone. Rey reached over and took his hand.

“Yes.”

“But you're alright now?”

“Yes.”

He gave her hand a squeeze and let go.

“That's what matters.”

When they rejoined the others, Poe was looking around.

“Hey. where do you sleep?”

Rey pointed to the loft.

“Not in there?” Poe pointed to the sitting room. The large bed was still folded down, chairs pushed to the side to make space. In the rush to leave, and with the carelessness of familiarity, she had forgotten to put it away.

Her eyes snapped to Rose's, panicking as she tried to come up with an excuse. Midday naps? Lounging? Just found it like that?

“Oh. That's—”

“Wow, look at the time!” Rose cut in, checking her chronometer. “We better unload the rest of the stuff and head back so Rey can settle in. It's getting dark.”

“I've only got a few things left,” Rey said, jumping up. “I really appreciate it.”

She gave Rose a nod of thanks as they followed Finn and Poe out.

They placed the cargo container with the Jedi texts in the far corner of the storage room off of the courtyard. The door closed behind her and she locked it with the security keypad. They would be safe in there. Finn had insisted she take them, explaining that he just needed to practice for a while.

“So Naboo is next?” Rey asked as she walked them out to the Falcon, BB-8 and D-O racing through the sand.

“Definitely Naboo,” said Poe. “We've got another break from work coming up a month or two from now. Maybe more people can meet us there. I think Chewie's getting bored.”

“I'd like that.”

Saying goodbye felt better this time, not a retreat into solitude but the next step of an adventure. They had plans. She hugged Poe, wincing a bit at the intensity of his back pats.

“Work on that Skyhopper,” he reminded her.

“Stay hydrated,” Rose told her as they hugged, making them both laugh.

Finally, she hugged Finn. For all of it, and for everything that happened after, she was glad they met.

“Finn?”

Close to the Falcon, he stopped.

“Yeah?”

“If you find anybody who needs a teacher...” Rey swallowed, knowing what she was doing. “I can only take a few, but you can send them here for now.”

A huge grin spread across Finn's face.

“You bet. See you soon.”

Rey smiled back.

“See you soon,” she agreed. “May the Force be with you.”

He nodded sincerely, and the ritual felt different now.

“May the Force be with you, Rey.”

Ben waited until the Falcon had disappeared before walking up to Rey and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Her thoughts churned with nervous anticipation.

“You're ready for this,” he told her.

“I'm really not,” she admitted. “But somebody has to do it.”

“I can help.”

“Ben.” Rey tried to be gentle. “You're...”

“Dead? Sorry—'One with the Force'?”

Rey poked him teasingly in the chest.

“Distracting.”

He played with the tendrils of hair that hung loose around her face, getting close to press his lips to her neck, tickling.

“Am I?”

Rey swatted at him. He scooped her up into his arms to kiss her mouth, soft and full.

“So distracting,” she confirmed when they broke the kiss, but it was quiet. She would never stop memorizing his face or the way he moved. For the rest of her life, he would be with her. And after that.

Something had changed. A little murmur of a feeling that the story of her was just getting started. That long, happy years would be hers, in spite of it all. That she had earned it so many times over.

It was a winding story, full of things that would no doubt make others scoff in disbelief if they ever heard it, years later, gathered around a campfire or in a crowded cantina.

But it was real. And it was hers.

Ben ducked into the white dome, still carrying her. As another desert night enveloped the sky, they disappeared into their warmly lit home, talking and laughing.


End file.
